Part of a Chain
by Zaci
Summary: We're all part of a chain. But sometimes, one part goes missing and a replacement is needed. On the edge of despair, Snippy takes the role of a temporary leader and has to prove himself worthy. Gunfights, dramatic scenes and lots of action await you in this story of epic proportions. Snippy whump
1. Assault

_**Okay first off here's a message to my readers that I just can't hold back to say anymore: You are all wonderful people! **_

_**I can't possibly thank you enough for all the nice reviews and comments you left for me on my previous stories, be it on deviantart or on here. You're in my heart.**_

_**Also big thanks to eight_of_hearts for test reading and fixing my story!  
**_

_**So here's the first part of the XXL story I promised ya'll. **_

_****__**A/N: **_Prepare for four bully OCs, some violence and swearing. This story is written in a mix of Snippy and Engie PoV.

_**Enjoy!  
**_

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**Chapter 1: Assault  
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In search of answers on the mysteries of Captain, Snippy warily snuck through the city, his target within sight. It was one of those days when Captain would decide to go on a long walk alone, then suddenly disappear and not return again until late in the evening. Nobody ever found out what he did or where he went. But this time, Snippy was following him imperceptibly.

Asking never revealed the answers to his questions, for Captain would feign ignorance and simply change the topic to pull his head out of the loop. So now Snippy was on a... discovery mission (which totally didn't count as stalking), close enough to keep the leader in vision and just distant enough to avoid being seen.

At the end of the street, the man in the gray wool coat stopped to take a look around.

Suddenly alarmed and afraid of being seen, the marksman quickly dropped down behind a pile of rubbish, waiting there in a crouched position for something special to happen, his target in the vision of his rifle's scope.

Unsteady footsteps became louder behind him and it didn't take him much to tell who they belonged to.

"Charles, look what I've found!"

Slightly irritated, the blue-eyed sniper turned around to see Engineer approaching, carrying a box with a lace of lights hanging out of it, which quickly piqued his interest.

_Some lights and a few colorfully glowing bulbs will probably make everyone feel a little happier in this gray world,_ he thought before he spoke up.

"Nice find! But where are you gonna get the electricity to work them from?" Snippy asked, standing up to take a closer look at the lights.

"Hah, that will be the easiest part. I can probably find a few parts out here to build a battery with," Gromov said with a dismissive wave.

For a few seconds Snippy stood lost in thought, staring blankly at the little light bulbs, until Engie picked the conversation up again.

"So what exactly were you doing out here in the first place, if I may ask?"

Upon that question, the marksman jerked back to attention and spun around quickly, only to see an empty street with no Captain. The distraction had caused him to lose track of his target and now he was gone.

Another chance to find out more about their mysterious leader wasted. Irritable about his failure, Snippy let out an angry groan and tensed up his hands beside his head.

"Is something wrong?" the engineer inquired curiously, not quite sure about the sudden mood change of his comrade.

"Never mind, he's gone," the sniper muttered, slightly disappointed, and calmed down again.

"Spying on Captain, eh? That's so wrong."

"Don't blame me; asking never got me anywhere. I'm just trying to solve the mysteries about him by myself, since he won't talk. For example, where does he keep going? Why doesn't he sleep? And, of course, why does he never eat with us?" the blue-eyed man explained and looked down at the ground, kicking away a rusty can with his foot.

"Uh, good luck with that. I gave up on that long ago. I think he wouldn't even trade his secrets for gifts, just so you know where you're at," Alexander informed him briefly.

"Well, since he's disappeared for good now, I guess I'm done here. I'm gonna head back to the base to see what Pilot is up to. Haven't seen him for quite a while already," the marksman pointed out and walked past the engineer.

"Alright. I'll be looking for those few missing parts for the battery. See you later at the base, Charles."

A quiet "bye" came from the sniper as he left him alone.

On the way there, thick snow flakes started falling from the sky and gathered on the road.

As he walked, Snippy forged new plans to find out more about Captain. Finally he reached the modest but cozy hut they called their home – the place where they stored all the stuff they found that was in some way valuable to them.

Captain preferred to call it a _base_, since they were his squad, his little _army_. Snippy never understood why he was so into all this military stuff. He personally thought war was a horrible thing.

As he stepped through the doorframe and stopped just inside to take a deep breath and stretch his stiff joints, he heard a strange sound coming from the other room.

"Pilot, is that you?" he asked uncertainly, already taking the possibility of another stupid prank into account and stepping farther into the dusky house with wary eyes.

As Snippy made out a movement in the room behind the arch, he sighed irritably.

"I hate this kind of game... come out, I saw you already!" the marksman snorted and headed into the room.

Upon entering, a strange feeling overcame him. The person looming above him wasn't Pilot. About to grab the rifle from his back, a hand suddenly latched on his right arm and wrenched it against his back in a painful way.

As he felt a rope being pulled up against his neck in order to suffocate him, his first reaction was to counter with a swift kick rearwards. The back of his boot effectively struck someone who seemed not to have expected this sudden attack. After the pressure stopped, the rope slid down to the floor, but his feelings of victory didn't last long as another hand grabbed his left arm, further constricting his movements.

Resisting his struggles, the two held him firmly as a fourth, dark figure came dangerously close.

Not even thinking about giving in, Snippy kicked around with his legs, managing to land a hit on one of them, and got his left arm free, but soon he felt the consequences.

He was caught off guard as an elbow smashed down on his back and a knee collided with his abdomen, causing a paralyzing pain.

"Fuck..." he groaned out as he collapsed in defeat and was pressed down to the floor by a foot on his back.

They were four against him – fighting back was out of the question for now.

Strong hands and feet pinned Snippy down while the men took away his rifle and searched his pockets for anything of interest to them.

Something inside him refused to just let this happen, but he was aware of the hopelessness of his situation. Still, there had to be a way and that thought didn't leave his mind.

Even though he knew he wouldn't stand a chance in a fight, the sniper started pushing and tearing against their grip in frustration, but the grasp of the hands only became tighter and the pressure stronger.

"_Porco cane,_ quit it, will you? Or you will end up like the retard with the green goggles _laggiù_, who too wouldn't stop fighting back," a voice laced with Italian accent sneered.

A pudgy man wearing a white tuxedo and a full gas mask walked over to a person who lay on the floor motionless, and pushed him over with his foot. His hands and feet were tied and he seemed to be unconscious. It didn't take long for the sniper to recognize his crew mate.

"Pilot!" Snippy screamed, feeling his frustration turn into anger. "What did you do to him, you bastards!"

"Oh, so you know that retard? _Siete amici, giusto?_ How does he even get friends with that attitude of his?"

Driven by rage the marksman yanked his right arm free and landed a hit on someone's face with his elbow. Someone who failed to hold him down with his foot ended up with a kick in the crotch.

The third man backed away from the sniper before he could get hit. Finally free again, Charles got up from the ground and rushed towards the Italian, ready to punch him in the face.

But the other men didn't let it get that far.

One of the two he had just knocked out quickly got back up and joined the other one for a counter attack.

Just before Charles could reach the chubby man, they got hold of his arms and he was pulled back down to the ground with a swift tug, landing heavily on his back.

One held the sniper's arms down by the wrists while the other one tied them together. After that, they did the same with his feet.

"You should have listened to the boss when he told you to stop. Now you'll get to feel the consequences," one of the men said in a rough voice and held him in place. "It's nothing personal, but you asked for this."

Afraid of what might come now, Snippy silently cursed himself for always making the worst decisions in the worst situations.

An unexpected kick in the side made him cringe in pain and more blows came in quick succession. Gritting his teeth, he figured that this was just the beginning and he was prepared for the next kick, but they started to get harder now and each one brought new, intensified pain.

"How does that feel?" a rough voice mocked with a laugh.

The next, violent kick finally made him cry out but the tormentors only seemed to see that as a motivation to go on.

"Stop... please..." he quietly formed the words in agony, but they didn't listen.

The next row of heavy attacks brought his body to the limits of endurance. He feared that his ribs wouldn't stand this exposure for much longer and break, leaving him to die from inner hemorrhage.

As soon as he thought it had stopped, a final kick was aimed at his face.

"That one was for trying to hurt our boss," a ratty voice said.

Luckily his mask had caught most of the impact, or he would have probably ended up with a broken jaw or nose, though it still hurt like hell.

Two men lifted the sniper up and threw him against a book shelf that he struck full force without a possibility to catch himself.

After he hit the floor, the immense pain from the collision made itself noticeable in his body, making him hiss in agony.

Trembling violently, he tried to lift himself up from the ground, but he fell right back down as his muscles gave out. With a soft groan he curled up on the spot, panting shakily. In pain from all these attacks, he wished he would just pass out, but he wasn't so lucky.

"I hope that was a lesson to you," the man with the deep voice said roughly.

After this he didn't dare to move anymore – not as though he had the mental and physical strength to do so anyway.

Instead he silently observed the situation. A feeling of relief came over him as he noticed that they left him be for now and gathered in the middle of the room for a conversation.

"Boss, what are we gonna do with them?" the rough voice asked.

Snippy couldn't really tell who the voice came from since they were all wearing full gas masks. All he could use to tell them apart were voices, height and look.

One was tall and muscular, the Italian was pudgy, one stood hunched and was a bit taller but didn't look very heavy, and one looked kind of small for a man, but the sniper was sure it wasn't a female. They all wore different leather jackets and gray clothes, except for the chubby Italian one who went with something more formal and elegant.

"I have no use for failures like him. Lui é_ inutile_," the fat man growled while nodding in the sniper's direction. "I'd love to have some more strong men like Stan for my army, not such bony weaklings like that guy over there."

"What about the other one?" the ratty voice inquired. "He seemed quite strong to me."

"_Quell' idiota?_ He's a total retard," the boss stated and pointed at the aviator. "Probably can't even count to ten."

Upon hearing that, the group burst into raucous laughter. Suppressing his anger, the blue-eyed sniper gritted his teeth as he listened to their insults.

"I think we should leave them both to Stan," the rough voice suggested, snapping his fingers.

"Sounds good to me. It will be fun," the tall, strong man with Snippy's rifle in his hand chuckled and turned in his direction. He must be the one called Stan.

"Alright, but wait until when we are done here. _Sapete_, I don't like blood splatters all over my clothes and loot," the boss said with a sly grin.

Sighing in defeat, Snippy closed his eyes. He now knew what they were up to: they would put he and Pilot against a wall and shoot them, probably to avoid any act of revenge.

In his mind he thought up possible ways to escape. His absolute priority was to find the others and warn them... then he could rescue Pilot from these brutes' grasp, if it wasn't already too late. But first he had to get out of here somehow, as quickly as possible.

With his hands and feet bound, the only possible way to move would probably be to roll and push himself forwards in order to get outside. But the Stan guy was still standing right next to him with his loaded rifle.

If he could only get up somehow, he could probably manage to knock him out, but then the others would instantly notice and kick him to death for good this time.

Snippy swallowed at the thought but banished it instantly. There simply had to be another solution.

As he looked up, he made out the position of Stan, the chubby one, the hunched one and the short one, but suddenly he spotted a fifth silhouette through the arch, standing in the doorway. At first he didn't believe his eyes but after he blinked disbelievingly, the figure still stood there. The person entered the house and as Snippy finally recognized the coat, his heart almost stopped.

"Stay away, Gromov! Don't get any closer!" the sniper screamed, lifting himself up with difficulty to get a better look.

Upon hearing his voice, the engineer instantly looked in his direction.

"What's going on here?!" he yelled, seeming very confused.

"Run away, it's a trap! They will- ugh!"

His voice broke as Stan violently picked him up by the neck and threw him across the room where he lay, coughing and gasping for air.

"Shut up, you failure!"

Alarmed by his warnings, Gromov dropped the box he was holding, took a few steps backwards and finally dashed off.

In silence the sniper hoped Alexander would escape and find Captain.

"Get him!" he heard the Italian command and watched Stan go after the helpless engineer.

The other two men immediately followed, leaving their boss behind with his two captives.

Quite a while passed, but they didn't return. By now the boss had walked his third circle around the room, until he finally sighed and headed for the door.

"I'll be back in _un minuto_. Don't do anything stupid. _Capito?_" he said, giving Snippy a disgusted look. "Filthy scum..." he murmured before he left.

Charles wouldn't leave this opportunity unused. It was now or never and he decided to take action. The moment of Stan's return was like a deadline, because then they would all face certain death. His plan simply had to work.

Stealthy as a snake the sniper pushed and dragged himself across the floor, which turned out to be quite challenging as his movements were very restricted by the ropes, but he eventually made it to the wall near the window. After he sat up and leaned against it with his back, he pushed himself up into a standing position. Finally on his feet again, he hopped over to the closed window.

Pushing the long knob with his tied hands up into a horizontal position, the window opened a crack.

Overwhelmed by his success so far, he was about to open it and escape, but his joy instantly died down as something hard was pressed against the back of his head. An ominous click brought a shiver down his spine, as he realized that it was a gun.

"Trying to escape? _Ma perché?_ I thought I told you to cease any stupid actions, but once again you didn't listen. When will you ever learn?" the boss asked, his voice making the sniper freeze in fear. "If you thought you can just get away with this, you thought wrong, you little contrast freak."

The seconds were ticking by and Charles made his final thoughts. Was this really it? There was a high chance he would get killed in the next few minutes and he blamed it on his horribly bad luck. For a moment he simply refused to accept this.

"This isn't fair..." the blue-eyed sniper muttered.

In response the man behind him started laughing and he completely understood why. Snippy's situation really was ridiculous and laughable, if only it weren't so sad. Because if he died, it would mean that he had failed his crew and they would probably soon share the same fate.

"Seriously, have you taken a look around you?" the man said in a mocking tone. "All morality has ceased and people make their own rules now. Nothing in this world is fair, not like it ever was anyways. Only the fittest one survives."

_You don't look fit to me at all, _Snippy thought in disagreement, hiding a smirk behind his mask. But his smile soon died down again at the seriousness of the situation. Thanks to the gun pointed to his head, every breath could be his last one.

"Snippy?" a voice said from the corner. "Snippy! Who is this ugly fat slug by your side? You two seem to get along very well because I hear you chatting a lot. Is he your friend?"

As he noticed the gun suddenly being put down, the marksman took a careful look over his shoulder and slowly turned around.

"You..." the chubby old man snarled. "_Porco cane, _I don't let a moron like you call me fat! If you were at least a little bit sane, you'd know who you shouldn't mess with in your position."

"What?!" Pilot shouted back, suddenly upset. "You're the moron here, thinking you can just mess with Captain's minions and dig through our pockets! Go back home and take your smelly shoes with you!"

"That's it! You've gone too far this time! _Preparati..._" the man yelled, pointing his gun at Pilot.

This was serious. Filled with a sudden burst of adrenaline, Snippy suddenly launched himself at the man, tackling him down before the trigger was pulled. The unaimed shot was ear-splitting as the bullet left the gun and hit the side of the wall behind Pilot with a resounding crack.

The sniper landed on the floor and was immediately kicked away by the other man, knowing that he was in for it this time.

Surprisingly agile for a man of his stature, the boss was back on his feet again and pointed the gun at his attacker.

"You really shouldn't have done this. You know what's coming now, so I hope you regret your actions in the moment you die," he told Snippy.

"I regret nothing," Charles spoke coldly as he sat up, finally looking up at the man who seemed suddenly surprised.

_He looks like a man who has taken many lives before. He shouldn't hesitate now,_ Snippy thought. But for some reason, he did.

A mix of noises suddenly drew the pudgy man's attention to the door and he put his gun down. The sniper recognized some of the voices, especially one with a russian accent that sounded very familiar.

Two men held the engineer by the arms and the tall one was at the ready to take action in case of an escape attempt.

"Do you even know who I am? You have no right to take me with you against my will! Let me go!" the engineer scolded.

"I don't give a damn about who you are, or were. You play by _our _rules now, smartass," the ratty voice rudely said to him from the left.

As Engie was pulled into the house and made out his two comrades lying there on the floor and an armed man standing beside Snippy, he just stared at the beaten marksman with a strong feeling of concern.

_Oh god, what did they do to him? Is he injured? Will they do the same to me?_ The thoughts shot through Engie's head all at once and triggered a burst of panic.

Like a frightened animal he pressed himself into the opposite direction and started yanking away from the tight grasp around his arms.

Unexpectedly the back of a rifle was rammed into Gromov's middle with brutal force, making him double over in pain. He staggered back, barely able to stand on his feet anymore.

He would have wrapped his arms around his abdomen if they weren't held firmly by the two other men who accompanied the muscular guy with the rifle.

"You're no better than the other jerk," the tall man noted.

As they pulled him up and made him move, he just allowed them to lead him along. There was no point in responding anymore, because it would probably only end up in more physical violence against him. Within a few seconds the room was filled with people. The four guys stood around him, Snippy lay on the floor and from the corner Pilot was watching the happenings.

The hunched man with the rough voice picked up a rope that lay on the floor and cut it into two pieces, just long enough to serve as manacles.

Putting two and two together, Alexander soon figured out what lay ahead. Biding his time, he yanked his arm free and backed away as Stan tried to catch him. A wall soon hit against his back and the foes circled him. Alex kicked at the small guy as he approached, but he dodged and avoided the attack successfully.

Without hesitation he used the gap in the chain to slip through under his attackers' arms but the way out was suddenly blocked by a man in a white tuxedo.

"Wowowow, what do you think you are doing?" Stan asked, approaching the terrified engineer carefully. As soon as Gromov dropped his guard for a second, the chubby man pushed him into Stan. Taking advantage of that he got hold of the engineer's arms and viciously shoved his feet out from under him.

For a moment his surroundings turned so fast that he lost track of them and found himself face down on the ground.

"Quickly Tom, the ropes! This one is just as persistent," the strong man exclaimed while he held his helplessly wriggling victim down by the neck, making sure to keep the man's legs on the ground to avoid any more uncontrolled kicking.

"Let me go!" he shouted.

This all felt so humiliating to the engineer that he saw no way to accept this and no reason to stop.

_Why, oh why did you get yourself caught, Alex? You should have taken the other way, then you wouldn't have ended up in a dead end,_ the man thought and silently cursed himself.

"Snap out of it, Alex!" Snippy suddenly advised him. "They're going to hurt you even more if you keep fighting back!"

That left a good warning on him and he wondered if it wouldn't be better to listen to the ex tour guide this time. Finally he stopped and felt the bonds being tightened around his wrists.

"Oh? What was that?" the pudgy man mocked in a high pitched voice. "Looks like all the beating made our little contrast guy here see reason and give in to us! Again, physical violence has proven itself as the best method of education."

Once again the group burst into degrading laughter.

"You heard your friend, fatty," Stan said to the side of Gromov's head. "You better cooperate if you like your bones in one piece."

The man chuckled and pinned him down harder, which made the engineer groan under the pressure that clamped off the nerves in his knees. In defeat he gritted his teeth as his ankles received the same constraint as his wrists.

"Get up," the strong man demanded after climbing off him and threatened him with his rifle.

Without a word the engineer obeyed, even though standing up turned out to be a challenge with these bonds.

A sudden push knocked him right back down on the floor, for he was unable to catch himself all tied up like that. Lying there with all eyes on him was more than embarrassing.

"Look how clumsy he is!" the ratty voice pointed out and laughed.

"And I thought he already was a clumsy sissy before..." the old man added.

Shattered by the humiliating treatment, the engineer just turned onto his back and sat up on the floor, hoping for this bullying to stop.

"You!" Stan shouted and jabbed the point of his rifle into his back. "Move your ass over to that wall."

He pointed at the spot next to where Pilot lay and moved the point of his weapon over to Snippy, who flinched slightly as he noticed it.

"You too, weakling! I want to see both of you at the wall with your friend here. Come on you lazy bastards, move!" he shouted at them.

Afraid of more punishment, Engie did what the man said and pushed and wriggled himself along with Charles across the room to Pilot, staying silent while the men above them laughed and degraded them with various insults.

As all three of them sat in a line against the wall, the boss looked down at them with satisfaction.

"_Benissimo!_ Now let's see what kind of treasures you guys are hiding here. Maybe there are a few things you can pass down to me and my men? Oh, of course you can! Because you won't need them anymore when you're dead," he spoke maniacally and motioned his crew to spread out to search the house.

Pulling himself together, Gromov drowned another panic attack in fast breaths.

As the other three left the room, the boss took a quick look around and spotted something on the table in the other room.

"_Che bontà!_ Where did you find this marvelous, black painted mug with the red heart on it?" he asked and lifted it up with one finger.

"Put that back down, you shoe! You're not allowed to touch Captain's glorious mug!" Pilot yelled and would probably have jumped at him if he wasn't all tied up.

"Pilot, shut up!" Snippy hissed at him.

"Captain? Who is that?" the Italian asked.

_Don't you dare mess everything up even more than it is now,_ the engineer added in thoughts and frantically tried not to think about what would happen to them if Pilot did.

"Captain is the awesome ruler of Captainia! He is magnificent and he will crush you with his greatness once he gets his hands on you!" Pilot threatened with moronic courage.

"Damn it, do something, Charles!" Gromov desperately whispered to his crew mate.

Snippy thought fast. If he allowed Pilot to babble out the wrong thing, their Captain would be in danger. Once the hostiles found out that there were more than just the three of them, they would go hunt him down too. No matter what, Charles couldn't allow that to happen.

"I don't understand... where is this person you call your captain?" the confused boss asked.

Snippy's time to think was over and the plan he came up with in the past few seconds looked miserable, but all he could do now was go by it and pray it would work.

"Right here. I am their captain," the sniper spoke up and the other two stared at him in disbelief.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" Engie nervously hissed into his ear. "We're so screwed!"

"Just trust me... I've got a plan."

The boss started chuckling quietly, which soon turned into loud laughter.

"_Sul serio__?_" he asked and slowly caught his breath again. "You're their captain? If that's true, you're a really pitiful, desperate one. You don't look like you're going to beat me up anytime soon, so I'll just take that mug."

"No! Don't do it!" Pilot pleaded as the man lifted up said mug.

"This is all your fault!" he hissed and shoved his elbow into Snippy's side, who suppressed a painful cry and shuffled away from him to stay out of range of his elbow.

"Don't underestimate our captain!" Engie suddenly played along. "You will get to see his real powers soon enough!"

"Oh, _davvero_? I don't think so," the chubby man chuckled as he came closer. "Because Stan has more than one bullet ready for you all. That should take care of you clowns. But I will tell him to give your o so glorious captain a special treatment," he promised and paused, bending down to the sniper's face. "I'll tell Stan to kill him after the others, so he'll get the honor to watch his crew die."

Snippy's heart jumped and he could feel it start to beat faster now, deeply wishing he hadn't brought himself into this situation. The mere thought was terrifying to him and it visibly stirred him up.

"You monster..." the engineer growled, but his words left the man cold.

"_Ti ringrazio__._ Now excuse me while I go check for my men," the boss said as he passed through the arch.

Hearing a call, he drew to a halt there.

"Boss!" the small man called as he came trotting towards him.

"What is it, Ratty?" the man replied.

"Along with a few other things we found a bunch of canned food, fresh clothes, a first aid kit, ammunition, some red balloons, a bottle of helium, a set of knives and a toolbox. Stuffed it all into the two huge backpacks," the small person reported and the other two appeared behind him, carrying said heavy cargo.

"Pst! Pilot!" the sniper whispered and slid closer.

"Huh? What have you got to say, shoe?" the aviator muttered, staring at him.

"Alright Pilot, listen carefully now. I've got a plan that might get us out of here alive," Snippy explained quietly enough that the others didn't notice their conversation.

"Why should I listen to you, Snipster? Your stupid plans never work!"

This was a bad time for Pilot to be stubborn and the sniper had to find a way to satisfy him.

"If you don't do what I tell you, you won't get to see Captain ever again! I swear to you, this is not a joke!" Snippy scolded and almost felt sorry afterwards as he felt Pilot shrink back beside him.

"Never see him again? But... Captain always finds a way, doesn't he?" the aviator asked, desperately waiting for confirmation.

"Let's see it like this... if we don't escape from here now, we'll be dead in less than ten minutes. Captain can't save us now, because he is far away," Charles tried to explain to him. "I'm sure he would want us to find a way out of this dilemma by ourselves. See this like a mission. A mission to... uhm..," he racked his brains for a fitting name. "A mission to save the mug!"

Upon hearing that, Pilot rose his head with newly gained motivation.

"A mission... Yes! I must retrieve the mug from the thieves!"

"Okay Pilot," Snippy continued and started explaining his plan. "There is a hunting knife in the left pocket of my jacket. On my signal I want you to take it and cut the ropes on your ankles."

Meanwhile the scavengers were still talking about various things like what this house was lacking and whatnot.

"Have you seen their bathroom? I swear, it's got a huge mirror in it. Come check it out, it's just around the corner here!" the old man told his colleagues with fascination.

"Davvero? That I gotta see!" the boss said and exchanged a few looks with his group.

Snippy watched their every step carefully and waited until the men had left the room. This would be his only chance. The last man had just disappeared when Charles shot a whisper to the aviator.

"Now, Pilot!"

With tied hands Pilot reached for Snippy's jacket and fumbled around in the inside of its pocket for a while, bringing forth a bunch of other things that fell on the ground as he pulled out a thin, wooden shaft with a button at one side. Pressing it by pure coincidence made him jump and drop it on the floor as the blade emerged from the side.

"I have it!" the man with the green tinted goggles said joyfully as he picked it back up, looking over to the other man, waiting for approval.

"Okay, now cut the bonds and free yourself!" the sniper pushed.

With the tiny knife in his hands, Pilot hastily sawed through the rope that held his feet together and spread them as he was finally free again.

"Awesome, you made it! Now hand over the knife so I can-" Snippy began, but was cut off.

"No!" Pilot disobeyed. "I still need it..." he murmured, trying to cut the bonds on his wrists but failing due to the awkward angle.

The blue-eyed man sighed, praying the hostiles would take their time and not return just yet.

"Remember what I told you before about what happens if you don't cooperate with me now?" Snippy reminded him.

After a slight pause, Pilot finally decided to give the sniper his hunting knife back and leaned back like a child that had lost an argument with his parents.

"Good. Let me free your wrists from these ropes..." the marksman offered and his crew mate held up his arms towards him. "Where is your sword, Pilot?" he asked while working his way through with the knife.

"Uhm..," he started, probably trying to remember where he had deposited it. "I think it's over there on the chair, under the dirty laundry."

The rope fell to the ground as the blade finally cut through, and at last Pilot's hands were finally free again as well.

"Go get your sword! Hurry, but be quiet!" Snippy hissed and watched Pilot get up on his command, attempting to sneak across the room.

"I think they're coming back!" Engie warned and exchanged quick glances between the door and Pilot. "He won't make it!"

"Shit... Pilot, get back here right now and sit down!" the sniper ordered and hid the knife and the other stuff on the floor behind his back.

Stopping in the middle of the room, the aviator almost stumbled backwards before he planted his bum right next to Snippy again. Quickly the marksman picked up the remains of the ropes and loosely threw them over Pilot's feet and wrists as he sat, to at least make it look like he was still tied up.

Just as he finished, he saw the boss coming back through the arch and felt a sweat drop run down his face as the chubby man gave them a quick glance before he turned to his men.

"_Bene_, we are done here. Ratty, take Stan's backpack. He's still got business to do here," the boss informed him.

"Yes, Sir!" the short guy with the strange nickname Ratty said as he lifted up the backpack that was almost bigger than him. "Tom and I are going to carry the loot to the base."

His boss nodded at him in approval before he looked the direction of Stan, who waited for an order.

"Oh, right. _Ho quasi dimenticato!_" the leader exclaimed and spun around to the captives. "We've had a special agreement before. The captain always leaves his ship last, right? Therefore, the contrast guy shall get the bullet last. _Hai _c_apito?_"

He received a nod from the strong man.

"Well then... have fun! They're all yours now," the boss told him gleefully before he headed to the door and left his executor alone with the three tied up men on the floor looking towards their end.

* * *

**_End of Chapter 1_**


	2. Take Back

_**Part two is here with 1k more words than the first one!**_

_**Sorry for making you all wait for so long, but life really got in the way.**_

_**Lots of hugs for eight_of_hearts for test reading and correcting!**__**  
**_

_**Also thanks to everyone for reviewing and supporting my stories!  
**_

_**Enjoy!  
**_

* * *

**Chapter 2: Take Back  
**

* * *

Stan strode around the room, checking the magazine of the rifle that he had stolen from Snippy earlier.

"Hehe... it's still full," he mentioned and deftly spun it around in his hand as if weighed only half of what it actually did. "Which means there's plenty of bullets for all of you. Isn't that great?"

With agile hands he shoved the magazine back in and readied the gun to shoot.

"The boss told me to kill your captain last. So... which of you two morons wants to die first?"

Engie shifted around nervously while Pilot kept throwing quick glances over to the chair.

"You look pretty scared, fatty," Stan chuckled and stared down at the engineer. "But don't worry, I'll make it quick for you."

As the rifle was pointed at him, Alexander yelped and huddled up against the wall in fright.

"Don't do this!" Snippy exclaimed, trying to make the executioner see reason. "You took everything you wanted. Just settle for that and call it a day! You can keep the rifle... I don't care. But leave us alive!"

"Why should I?" the man laughed. "I gain no benefit from that. You're most likely going to try and get revenge on us as soon as you can. That makes you a thorn in my eye as long as you're alive."

"But..." Snippy started, searching for better reasons. "Don't you feel bad when you point a gun at a helpless victim? They don't even have a chance to fight back."

Feeling quite satisfied with this last argument, Charles hoped it would change the man's mind and prayed for a positive reaction.

"Guess what..." Stan said slowly and jabbed a finger at them. "You all had your chance, each one of you. And you blew it! I don't feel remorse when killing off idiots like you; I've done it plenty of times before. Because this is my freaking job!"

Realizing that the other was completely right strangled Snippy from the inside and he gasped. It had always been three against three, with the only kink being that his crew came in one by one and not all at once and working as a team, like the others did.

Lesson learned, Snippy realized he should have done the same to begin with and now there was a price to pay for his failure.

Pilot gave him a nudge and as the sniper looked up their eyes met and he saw the aviator nod. Snippy abruptly remembered something.

"There is nothing you can do now to save your Russian friend, so say goodbye!" Stan declared and pointed the gun back at the engineer.

"Go Pilot!" Snippy shouted, hoping that he would see the gravity of the situation and obey.

It happened within a second that the pilot jumped forward and tackled the surprised executioner down. The impact made him pull the trigger and a bullet shot a hole into the wall next to Gromov's head. The engineer fell over and huddled up on the ground in terror.

Pilot stepped on Stan's right arm, restricting him from using his rifle, and punched him everywhere he could reach, but his efforts had little effect on the steel-like body. A strong hand suddenly grabbed him by the neck and he flailed around as he was lifted up, gasping for air. Green-tinted goggles looked at the executioner pleadingly as his feet left the ground.

"I don't know how you got free, but you'll regret this!" Stan snorted and threw him across the room where he collided with the wall.

He slid to the floor and lay unmoving.

Finding it hard to believe that the man he had set everything on had just lost the fight, Snippy stared blankly at the prone form.

"No, Pilot! Wake up!" he yelled, a deep feeling of guilt welling inside him before turning into a spark of vengeance.

"Your ridiculous efforts were in vain, retard!" the tall man said with a laugh, slowly walking closer to give the green-eyed pilot the rest.

The sniper got hold of the knife behind him and started cutting the bonds around his feet while his foe was busy. He wouldn't just sit here doing nothing and watch his mate get killed because of him.

Stan readied the stolen rifle for his next shot but was interrupted the very next second as someone rammed into him from behind. The dull pain in Snippy's bruised ribcage returned full force as he tackled Stan but the attack was a success as they crashed to the ground together.

His original plan to get his gun back didn't quite turn out the way he had expected, as Stan was back on his feet before Snippy could even get up on his knees. Snippy didn't see the blow coming before his feet were kicked away in a single swipe, forcing him back down. Without a chance to catch himself, he viciously hit the floor and let out a pained groan as the pain in his ribs intensified, paralyzing him for a moment.

"Is that all you've got? Come on, get up!" Stan taunted, and pushed him over with his foot.

As Snippy opened his eyes again, he caught sight of the glint of a blade behind the strong legs, bringing back a surge of hope.

_I guess all this effort hasn't been in vain, _he thought with a smile.

"Take this, you ugly shoe!"

"What-" Stan gasped and took a step aside. A vicious stab left him with a gaping wound on his right arm and the man yelped. In sudden shock and pain he accidentally dropped the rifle and ran for the door as he realized that the situation had escalated.

"Wait, I'm not done with you!" the aviator yelled with an angry glare in his green eyes, and swiftly took pursuit.

"No Pilot, stop!" Snippy groaned, but his colleague was already too far away to notice the call.

Soon the sound of their footsteps had faded into the distance and the only sound that remained was Gromov's nervous panting.

Seeing him huddled on the floor like this gave Snippy the assumption that he must be in a state of shock.

Cloth rustled as he shifted to pick up the knife that he had left there on the floor, pinching it between his boots and cutting through the rope around his wrists. Once free again, he crawled over to his colleague.

Carefully Snippy put his hand on his shoulder and felt him wince at the touch, still trembling with every breath.

_Poor guy..._ he thought and started removing his bonds. That didn't seem to ameliorate his condition and he remained in his huddled position, not looking like he'd get up any time soon.

"Come on Alex... we need to get going," Snippy urged him and gently shook the engineer, who finally pulled himself together and sat up slowly, hugging himself.

"He almost killed me... it was only a matter of a few centimeters... I could be dead now..." he muttered shakily, not yet fully recovered from the shock of recent happenings.

Snippy was forced to make a decision. If he didn't hurry and go after Pilot now, the aviator would try to fight alone and would most likely get caught by the hostiles. There was a good chance they would do even more horrible things to him.

By no means could he let that happen, but he also couldn't leave Alexander here.

The engineer was an important part of the team now and he had to somehow convince the man to come with him and help him retrieve Pilot, as well as the possessions that had been stolen from them.

"Come on, Gromov, pull yourself together... everything is alright! The bad guy is gone now!" Snippy told him. "But if you don't get up right now and come with me, Pilot will be in big trouble! It's up to us now to-"

"But I don't want to go after them... Pilot is strong, I'm sure he can handle them alone," Engie interrupted, and resumed staring blankly into space.

"Yes, he may be good with his sword, but we don't know what will be waiting for him. If he is heading to the enemy base, there could be traps or an ambush waiting for him. I'm actually quite worried right now," the sniper spoke, concern in his tone.

Slowly the engineer stood up and brushed the dust off his pants.

"I'm more worried that we're all gonna get caught again and wind up dead. Just think about it! We shouldn't throw away the chance we have to live on. I don't know about you, but I prefer to stay alive!" he admonished the blue-eyed man.

At that, something inside Charles snapped and he couldn't hold back anymore. Viciously he pushed his palms against Engie's chest, shoving him against the wall.

"Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you!?" the sniper yelled at him. "How can you be so selfish in a situation like this? Do you know why we're still alive? I'll tell you: because Pilot saved our backsides! And now his life depends on us and all you do is sit here and sulk in a corner worrying about dying. Man the fuck up, you wimp!"

"What? Now it's suddenly all my fault? Who started using Pilot as their pawn in the first place, blackmailing him with dirty lies?" Gromov shot back, jabbing a finger at him. "You were the one who did it! You brought us into this situation! It's your fault, so it's your job to solve this problem too, you failure of a wannabe-captain!"

At this point the sniper was fair boiling with rage and wanted to say something in return, but as he realized that fighting wouldn't get them anywhere, he drowned his anger and held back, calming himself down by banishing his hateful thoughts. Suppressing them was the only thing he could do right now to calm the situation down.

With a sigh Charles picked up the rifle from the floor and walked through the arch.

"Wait, what are you doing?" the engineer asked and automatically followed him out of the room, until a hand was pushed against his chest and he looked up.

"I'm gonna go do my job," Snippy said coldly and gave him a stern gaze before he left through the door.

* * *

With a mix of frustration and despair, Gromov stood in the room all alone since Snippy had left the house, staring through the open door, lost in thought.

It was snowing outside and by now the blizzard had created a pile of soft white powder on the old, faded welcome mat in the entry area.

As he ran through their heated conversation again in his head, Snippy's words suddenly started to make much more sense to him.

_Of course..._ there was no way on earth that Charles and Pilot could carry two huge backpacks out of there alone and fight back at the same time. After all there were four against two.

He realized now why Charles wanted him to come along. Teamwork was required for this task and he should have learned his lesson from recent events, but he'd been so blinded by fear and frustration that it was lost on him. As a part of the team, he was also part of a chain and every link had their own purpose and function to keep everything running smoothly.

But even if he decided otherwise and stayed here... would he be safe? There was no guarantee that the hostiles wouldn't come back to finish where Stan screwed up.

No matter where the sniper went, Engie knew he was the only person around who was capable of using a gun and protect him, and he would probably be safer around that guy than anywhere else in the city.

"Looks like you won this round, Charles..." he muttered quietly, and left the house.

Noticing plenty of fresh foot prints and a trail of blood drops which probably came from the man who had originally been responsible for their execution, Engie picked up the pace before the traces could be covered by the swiftly falling snow.

Wrought with frustration over his cowardly crew mate, the sniper trudged through the snow, following the traces that Stan and Pilot had left. _They seem to have fought on the way before they carried on further,_ he thought.

"Charles, wait!" somebody called. He instantly recognized the voice and was quite surprised to hear it.

"Chaaaarleeees!" Engie yelled and the sniper heard a thud.

Finally he stopped to turn around, only to see the engineer lying face down in the snow.

_Should have watched out for icy spots,_ he thought with a grin, and let out a sigh before walking over to him. Grasping his hand, he pulled him up and helped him into a vertically upright position.

As their eyes met, Snippy just gave him a cold stare, waiting for an explanation.

"Look Charles..." the engineer started, busying himself with brushing snow from his clothes. "I take everything back. I admit I was a little selfish when I said I didn't wanna help, but I made up my mind. You're going to need me there, aren't you? I'll come with you. But... should something happen to me, I'll blame it on you. Got that?"

"Bwah. That's so typical of you," the sniper returned, giving him a friendly punch to the shoulder. "I promise I'll do my best to protect you with my gun and try to be a good leader for this uhm... mission."

"You as a surrogate leader, huh... what else can go wrong? All we can do now is hope that nobody falls down a hole or breaks an arm," Alexander said cynically.

"Don't worry... as long as I have a rifle in my hands, you should be safe around me," the marksman reassured Gromov and glanced down at the weapon in his hand. "Let's get going, shall we? Maybe we can still catch up to those thieves."

"Yeah! I want my damn stuff back," the engineer said enthusiastically.

After following the tracks for a while the two arrived at the entrance of a massive building towering in front of them.

"So this is their base? It's not small, eh," Engie noticed. "Hey look, there's a sign at the side of the road!"

"_New Electronics Store – bigger assortment, smaller prices!" _Snippy read.

"... Sounds _really_ cozy for a home. Who wouldn't want to live in a house filled with junk and steel? I mean, seriously, who would?"

"They gotta have their reasons. Maybe there's more to it than that," Snippy mused, pacing towards the entrance. "Alright, let's cut the chatter while we're in there. The longer we stay unseen, the better our chances will be to get back out with our stuff," the sniper advised.

Stopping right in front of the gates, the two stared into the gloomy entrance of the building for a while before Gromov spoke up.

"You go in first," he suggested, pushing the sniper forward.

"Why me?" Snippy protested, flailing indignantly.

"You're the one with the gun, and you promised something. Remember?"

A moment of awkward silence followed.

"I guess I did..." he admitted with a sigh.

Finally he took the first step inside.

With wary eyes and Engie at his back, the marksman made his way through the entrance hallway that led into a wide, open room, the sides of it lined with huge shelves.

As they reached the center of the main floor, they noticed fragments of broken glass scattered on the floor. Apart from that and some random piles of snow, the room looked quite tidy.

"I guess these pieces fell down from above. Standing here for too long might be risky. More could come down any moment," the engineer whispered, pointing up at the ceiling.

Out of curiosity, Snippy looked up.

High above lay a great structure of a gritted, metal framework. Some of the windows still sat in their respective sockets, but the rest of the glass was down at their feet.

Snippy counted a grand total of five storeys above them and hoped for a clue on how to find the stolen goods in this massive place. As he peered along the sides of the storeys, he caught sight of a man leaning over the railing, watching them. But as soon as he was spotted, he stepped back and disappeared from sight.

Quickly the sniper pulled Engie back into the shadows and the engineer unwillingly stumbled along. After receiving an irritated look, Snippy let go of his arm and motioned Gromov to follow.

They took the stairs and ran across the first storey to the other side where the next stairs led up. Picking up the pace, the two of them finally reached the second, then third storey and suddenly made out two other people running in front of them. In an instant Snippy recognized Pilot and the muscular guy he'd been chasing. Just before Stan could reach the stairs, Pilot grabbed hold of his arm and yanked him back. The man yelped up in pain, giving Charles the assumption that his crew mate must have grabbed the man in a sore spot.

"Hold him, Pilot!" the sniper encouraged him, removing the safety catch from his rifle as he came running.

Reunited once again, the group closed in around the hostile man and Snippy pointed the gun at the man's back. He couldn't help but feel the irony in this whole situation. The tables had turned and now he was the one in power.

"Okay, listen up you two. I really hate to do this, but... we'll have to hold him hostage and see if we can achieve something by blackmailing the other thieves with threats. That could help us get our stuff back," he explained to the other two.

"Gromov, hold him by the other arm please," Snippy ordered. "We can't allow him to escape."

"And you..." he snarled at the strong, taller man, making his voice sound as malevolent as he could. "You're going to lead us to your boss. We want our stuff back."

With that he poked the man in the side with the tip of his rifle to get him moving and luckily for them, he didn't show the slightest sign of defiance.

"Yeah, give the mug back, you smelly shoe!" Pilot scolded, keeping his katana ready in the other hand in case he still dared to fight back.

_Don't mess up now.., _Snippy thought to himself.

All was going well so far, but while walking up the stairs to the fifth storey, he swore he could hear footsteps all across the building. At the moment the group came to halt at the top, the continuous noises assured him that they weren't just an echo.

Tired of these games the sniper finally wanted to know what's going on and leaned over the railing to see. Down in the first storey he made out a man who yet again disappeared behind a pillar right after he was spotted, just like the last one.

Slightly disappointed and confused, Charles pushed himself away from the railing and heard Stan chuckle.

"What's so funny?" Snippy inquired glumly.

"Nothing. Just the irony that you actually thought you had won when you caught me. But since the moment you set foot into this building, your miserable fate was already sealed," Stan chortled.

"What are you talking about?" Engie asked cautiously.

"The people you saw... they are part of the rest of our crew. They've been positioning themselves all over the building since you two came here. They are now waiting for a signal to take the offensive. No matter what you try, in the end you'll be dead anyway."

So his intuition was right, but Charles couldn't let the others down now. Not after he had gotten them both into this.

"Stop talking and lead me to your boss," he grumbled, trying to not blow his cover as captain.

Without further ado they moved on and were soon brought to the door of what looked like a rather big office.

Eager to retrieve the mug, Pilot pushed the door knob down and opened the door.

There they were – the crouched guy, the short one and their chubby boss – gathered around the two huge backpacks like rats above a rotten apple, sorting out the stolen belongings. Amongst the items that were scattered on the floor lay the mug with the painted red heart that was worth so much to Captain.

After noticing their unwelcome guests, the thieves rose from their fiendish position and stood in a line.

"Hand over our stuff, or your comrade will die," Snippy threatened, making a demanding gesture with his left hand while he held the gun to Stan's back.

Probably nobody but him knew that this was pure play-acting. Even in this situation, Charles' conscience couldn't reconcile killing a helpless man just like that, but he hoped that the bluff would work.

"_Cosa_? How are you still alive?" the boss grunted indignantly.

"Sorry boss, one of them managed to free himself before I could notice and caught me off guard," Stan explained with slight fear in his voice.

"_Ma che cazzo fai?_ You call yourself an elite member of my army and lose a fight against three thoroughly tied up morons?!" the boss raged. "You're a disgrace to our people! I should kill you right on the spot for this..."

And with that he pulled a small pistol from his belt and pointed it at Stan. Snippy felt his heart jump and lowered his rifle slowly, backing away from the hostage. He felt confused, and what just happened disturbed him deeply. His plan was blown that easily, leaving him empty handed.

"What do we do, Charles? Your plan failed! We're totally screwed!" Engie whispered to him behind Stan's back.

Sniper remained silent and tried to get a clear head, he had to rethink things. His hostage had just been made useless and the boss threatened the man to kill him; but what would the hostage do if he could get out of this alive? Which side would he choose?

"No Boss, please, I can make up for it! Don't shoot me!" the subordinate whimpered and dropped to his knees. "I'm your best man! Remember how long I served you as a loyal minion. I always stood by your side and followed your orders!"

After a short pause, the Italian man suddenly lowered his weapon and spoke up.

"Actually... you're right. Shooting you now is completely pointless. But don't think that I changed my mind. You're no better than the scum here."

Upon that he aimed the pistol at Snippy.

"First I shall kill that annoying moron with the black and white jacket. He's been going on my nerves for far too long now."

In an instant the marksman had his rifle pointed at the plump man and he was sure that neither one of them would hesitate to shoot this time.

"Don't even think about it," he said sternly, masterfully hiding his apprehension. It was hard to keep his composure in a moment like this.

"Give up. You're outnumbered by far," the boss advised him.

Snippy noticed the man's other two minions getting ready to attack and didn't dare be the first one to look away. One second of distraction could mean death. With gritted teeth he tried to come up with a way to get Pilot to assist him without the foe noticing.

_Come on, think! What would most likely trigger Pilot? _he thought frantically and discreetly glanced around the room for clues.

_Of course..._

"The mug is in danger and HE has it!" Snippy suddenly exclaimed, pointing at the boss and everyone fixed their gaze on him in confusion.

"_What?"_ Ratty asked, puzzled.

Pilot, however, dashed towards them and the short man backed away in fear at the charging figure, with his fierce green eyes and katana swinging wildly.

"It's a distraction! They had planned this all along!" the boss shouted to his men and moved his gun away from his target as he saw the fighter-pilot approaching. "Hey, you! Don't get any closer or I'll-"

"Thanks Pilot," the marksman whispered at the same moment as he carefully took aim and pulled the trigger with precision.

The pistol fell to the floor with a clatter and the chubby man screamed in pain, cursing in his mother language as he clutched his bleeding hand.

"Gromov, get the gun," Snippy said with sudden composure and caught hold of Stan's sleeve.

The man didn't move to get up and fight, which confused him. Why didn't he fight by the other men's side? The sniper started thinking out theories. Was the man that exhausted? Was he numb from pain? Or did he really feel betrayed by his boss? There wasn't much time left for him to think as someone tackled him to the ground.

"Stan, what the heck are you doing? Get up and fight!" the man with the rough voice screeched as he pinned the sniper down, but no response was given.

"G-g-get off him!" Engie warned, shakily clasping the pistol with both hands and pointing it at the crouched man.

"Don't make demands when you don't even know how to hold a gun properly," he rasped and leaped towards the surprised engineer.

Once free again, Snippy instantly used the opportunity to get Alexander out of trouble. The pistol was ripped from Alexander's hands by his attacker. Aware of that, he handled the situation as quickly as possible with a good smack to the back of Tom's head. The man collapsed on top of Gromov, who furiously shoved him away and got up.

"Hey, where did our hostage go?" the engineer noticed all of a sudden and Snippy was just as surprised to see him gone.

He'd been there just a second ago.

On the other side of the room Pilot stood over a defeated Ratty and the once so proud boss was crouched on the floor, still clasping his arm.

But Stan's absence made Charles nervous. He was painfully aware that he could jump out of the shadows for an attack at any moment, and it was quite unsettling.

"Grab everything that's ours and put it back into the backpacks while I stand guard. We're leaving," the marksman finally ordered, holding his rifle at the ready and keeping a wary eye on the door, in case Stan should return.

Within a minute, Pilot and Gromov had stuffed the gigantic backpacks with all their stolen belongings. Pilot put high priority into the safety of the mug and therefore put it on top of all the other things to make sure it wouldn't break.

With that done, they swung the heavy packs onto their backs and Snippy motioned them towards the door. Before he could follow them, a voice had him freezing in place.

"Don't think you've won already. I still have an ace up my sleeve..." the boss said, picking up a small, golden reception bell that had been hidden under a piece of cloth until that moment. "I have a little surprise for you."

Snippy had seen bells like this one at receptions in libraries before and wondered what the man was planning to do with it.

As he patted the top of it with his hand, the bell rang loudly, more than just once. The loud clang turned into what sounded like an even signal, echoing through the whole building.

"Your surprise is waiting outside. _E__cco c'é un consiglio_: If I was you, I'd run like hell now," the Italian added and cackled with a rough voice.

Without further ado, Snippy turned away, leaving the madman alone and hastily searched for the others outside of the office.

As he looked about he finally spotted them, heading down the stairs. The last toll of the bell slowly faded into echoes as he ran to the stairs to reach the others, but a sudden outburst of gunfire instantly made him stop and take cover.

Down in the fourth storey, Engie and Pilot sat hiding behind a flat, arched pillar that ran vertically through all floors. On the other side Charles made out a soldier aiming his rifle at the pillar, waiting for them to come out.

Just as Pilot dared a wary look out from his cover, more bullets flew his way and hit the solid edges of the pillar. Charles watched the hostile sniper on the other side start moving into their direction and felt a pang of alarm.

Snippy decided to take advantage in being as yet unseen and focused on the man with his rifle. With a well aimed shot he took him out and watched the soldier drop down dead.

After the low thud, silence filled the air and the marksman checked his surroundings one more time for danger before he made his way down to the others.

Before he even arrived at them he saw Pilot getting up, trying to pull Engie along without success.

"Come on, chubby slug! We haven't got all day!" he pushed the engineer, yanking at his arm, but the man remained crouching on the tile floor.

"Is everything alright, Gromov?" Snippy asked in concern. "Are you hurt?"

"No..." he answered and got up, still huddling into himself. "It's just..." he started. "They have guns and they shoot at us and they are waiting and will surround us and kill us and we will all die and-" Engie stopped as his voice gave out.

He was so churned up inside that it wasn't hard to tell for Charles that he must be scared to death right now and he felt awful for making Alex go through this.

Tactics had to be changed if he wanted to escort his crew to safety without anyone getting hurt or losing their temper and messing it up for the others. They had to stay strong as a team, or things wouldn't work out.

"Everything will be fine... I'll go first and make sure the way is safe, okay?" Snippy offered. "You and Pilot just follow at my signal."

"That's a stupid plan!" Pilot shouted. "How am I supposed to kill them when I go last?"

The sniper sighed. He had expected some protest from the aviator sooner or later and this was the worst possible moment to deal with it.

"Listen, Pilot. Our enemies have got rifles. You've got a katana. It would be less wise for you to run in first, since you won't be able to take them out when they're thirty meters away from you, right?"

For that moment, Pilot just stared at him and looked down at the sword in his hand, then over at Snippy's rifle.

"You can't use a gun, Pilot, if that's what you're thinking. Remember what happened last time you stole mine? You almost ended up shooting me in the leg," Snippy reminded him, and let out a sigh.

"What about you, Gromov? Can you use a gun? That would be really helpful."

"Sorry, never got the chance to use one before. Besides, I know nothing about guns," Engie told him quickly.

"It's easy. I could teach you a few things. Basically, all you have to do is-"

"Forget it! I'm not gonna participate in a gunfight!" Engie interrupted him and turned away.

"Gee, I guess it's all up to me then," the marksman declared, not quite happy about the outcome. But he couldn't blame him. Gromov was just not the man for guns.

A few moments later, two foreign voices sounded up from below.

"You two, position yourselves here and wait for them. We'll head farther down and catch them should you not succeed. In that case, just take cover and follow when it's safe."

"Alright. See you later," the other voice said, and the sound of swift footsteps told Snippy that the group had parted.

To get a brief overview on the position of the soldiers, Charles took a look over the railing but sooner than he had expected he was spotted. The last thing he saw was a rifle being pointing into his direction from a soldier in the storey below them.

Just in time he crouched down and a second later the sound of gunfire filled the air. Bullets shattered the glass of the railing into a thousand pieces, leaving him without protection until he slid over to the others, escaping the shots by an inch.

"They're up there!" a voice from below exclaimed.

Heart racing, Snippy caught himself quickly and slowed down his breathing.

"Okay guys, keep your heads down and stay right here! Do you understand me? Don't leave. I'll handle this..." he told the others, and dashed off.

He heard the bullets crush the glass behind him as he raced across the storey, keeping his head down while heading to the next pillar.

In that moment he earnestly hoped that Pilot wouldn't do anything stupid. Though as he reached it, it was Gromov who suddenly started shouting.

"Watch out Charles, there's one coming from the stairs!"

Staying behind the pillar, Snippy glanced over at Engie who leaned forth to see him.

"Keep quiet and get back down! You're revealing your position!" he yelled back, suddenly noticing that Pilot wasn't at the pillar with the engineer anymore.

As he heard a footstep behind him he cursed himself for allowing Gromov to distract him. He hadn't gotten a chance to ready his weapon as it was kicked out of his hands. The soldier stood right above him and as Charles looked up, he stared right into the barrel of his machine gun.

"Any last wishes?!" the man sneered.

A sudden movement behind the man caught Snippy's attention.

"In the name of the mug!" Pilot shouted as he leapt out of the shadows with his sword raised above his head.

The soldier turned around in surprise and failed to raise his weapon before Pilot struck him down with the katana. With a painful cry, the man dropped to the floor, a puddle of blood slowly forming below him.

Snippy wasn't sure whether to be grateful or mad at the disobedient swordsman.

"Pilot! Are you insane?!" he scolded. "I told you to stay behind!"

"What?" Pilot shot back and went to pick up his backpack again. "Be grateful, for the mighty sword just saved your organs from the hostile shoe!"

Before Snippy could argue further, Engie came running but seemed to have miscalculated the weight on his back. Failing to stop beside Snippy, he stumbled right into Pilot, accidentally knocking him over.

"Get off me, you heavy shoe!" Pilot ranted and flailed at the helpless engineer who falteringly got up to his feet to back away from the crazy man.

"It wasn't on purpose, so stop hitting me, you dangerous lunatic!" he scolded back.

"Oh dear..." the marksman said and caught himself face-palming. "We may as well expect the worst."

Until the others calmed down, Snippy decided to inspect the fallen soldier on the ground and couldn't help but notice the neat machine gun he had dropped.

In a matter of seconds he had fixed his old sniper rifle to his back and picked up the new gun, briefly inspecting it. It seemed like a handy weapon, just right for this kind of battle.

Rummaging through the man's pockets, he also found a few full magazines.

_Perfect. One can never have enough ammo,_ he thought and stored them all in the empty pockets of his jacket and pants.

Contentedly he reloaded his new gun and was now more than ready to go. Not nearly as ready were the other two, who were still throwing insults at each other.

"Guys!" the sniper interrupted them and they looked over to him. "Pull yourselves together! We're in big trouble already and arguing won't get us-"

A bang made him stop and the three clustered behind the flat pillar.

"The intruders are still up there in the fourth storey! One of you go get them while we guard your back," a voice said.

Snippy took a quick look from behind the pillar and spotted a soldier coming up the stairs. In a matter of seconds he ended the man's life with a few bullets to the head and the body went rolling down the stairs. After that, he pulled himself back behind the pillar again as bullets came flying his way.

"Take out their damn sniper!" an angry voice yelled. "Once he's out of the way, the rest will be cake."

Knowing that they were mainly after him now, Snippy knew he had to be extra careful. But he still had to make sure his crew mates would remain unharmed. He had to lead the group away from here somehow.

This time, he came forth and blindly peppered a row of bullets down into the third storey.

"Fire in the hole! Take cover and get down!" one of the men warned, and Snippy felt satisfied. His plan had worked well so far and this should have gotten them out of the way.

"Okay you two, stay here and don't do anything unplanned this time. Follow at my signal," Snippy whispered while he reloaded the gun.

He checked if it was safe before he took the stairs down, heading to the third storey alone.

Once there, he waved for the others to follow and they came down slowly but steadily, panting under the heavy load.

As they arrived next to him, Engie and Pilot squatted down behind the pillar in relief.

For quite a while Charles looked out for soldiers but assumed that they moved to the storeys below, so he slowly got going, staying away from the edge.

Nevertheless, the marksman kept a wary eye on the other side and his gun ready to shoot while he carefully moved towards the next pillar. Halfway there, he suddenly heard a voice and looked over the railing, checking if it came from below, but he saw nobody there.

All of a sudden, two soldiers burst from behind the two pillars on the other side and aimed their guns at him. Rows of bullets shot through the air and one of them just flew past his head, another one grazing his jacket. Facing the fact that there was no way for him to take cover now, Snippy instantly started running and fired back, hearing the glass shatter behind him. It became a reciprocal shootout.

All in all there was just one way to escape this hell and he made a conclusion: these riflemen had to die, now. No matter what it would take. Adrenaline shot through his blood and gave him new strength to run.

Another row of shots was fired at him. As he was about to shoot back, a searing pain manifested itself in his right side and his body tensed up.

Gritting his teeth, he fought through it and rose his gun to return the fire once more.

A feeling of triumph covered everything else in the moment the first hostile gunner went down. Soon after, the other one had his gun shot out of his hands and it dropping down into the depths. One last successful shot hit the soldier right in the middle of the chest and rendered him useless.

Snippy found it hard to believe he had actually made it through this still standing.

Heart still rushing, the sniper gave his fellows a sign to follow. Exhausted from the last few minutes, he sat down behind the flat pillar to catch his breath.

As the pain in his side awoke anew, he looked down at himself and pushed his jacket aside. Anxious about the extend of the damage the shot had done to him, he yanked his gloves off and slowly pulled up his shirt to take a look. The cloth was partially burned and stuck to the skin, so he carefully peeled it off.

There was no hole, but a horribly burned gash wound and lot of blood all around it. Staring at it for too long made his mind sway. He closed his eyes for a few seconds, firmly pressing his bare hand on the spot in order to stop the bleeding.

Resting his head against the wall he waited for the others to come and looked in their direction as he heard heavy footsteps approach.

"There you are, Charles!" he heard the Engineer say as he came with Pilot following. "I heard lots of gunfire and got down to take cover. But it's good you actually made it through and didn't-"

For a moment he startled and sucked in a breath as he saw the blood on the sniper's hand.

"Oh shit... did you get shot?" Gromov exclaimed, and started to panic. "This is bad... It all can't be happening! Don't die now, understood? Come on, think, Alex, think! There is a way to fix everything, and humans aren't much different to machines. You can fix this, right? Wait, I know what to do. I'll get the first aid kid from my backpack. Or was it in Pilot's? Pilot, give me your backpack for a sec-"

"Calm down Gromov, it's just a graze!" he scolded. He picked up his weapon and got up from the floor to demonstrate he was alright. "See? Everything is fine. No need to worry. Soon we'll get out of here, I promise."

After that, the engineer just stared at him silently and put his backpack back on. Even though Snippy stood slightly hunched over, he did his best to hide his pain and was glad that Gromov couldn't see through his mask at the moment. Even though it wasn't such a serious injury as a bullet impact, it still hurt like hell, but for now it was better that the others didn't know. They had other things to worry about right now.

There was no time for first aid now, so all that was left for him was to press his free hand on the wound and hope it would stop bleeding soon. Maybe he would survive a little bit longer that way.

"Come on, let's move farther down while they're still planning their next step," the sniper directed Engie and Pilot. "From now on, every second counts."

* * *

**_End of Chapter 2  
_**


	3. The Chain breaks

**After doing more than enough research on guns and other stuff, part 3 is done!  
**

**Lots of hugs for eight of hearts for test reading and correcting, and thanks to everyone for reviewing, supporting and sharing my stories! I love you all.  
**

**Enjoy!  
**

* * *

**Chapter 3: The Chain breaks  
**

* * *

Engie, Snippy and Pilot were on their way out of the rundown electronics store that served as a strategically functional base for the hostile wastelanders who had robbed them.

After the three of them took their stuff back, the boss of the hostile group sent in his secret weapon – a group of gunners, positioned all over the building – and they didn't go easy on the small group at all.

Considering that Charles was the crew's only offense against the enemy force and that the other two carried heavy backpacks that slowed them down, they had made it surprisingly far already.

However, everyone's luck ends at some point and Snippy knew that he never had much to begin with.

After almost getting himself killed and ending up with a bad gash on his side, he couldn't afford to make any more wrong steps.

The group moved on.

As soon as they set foot on the second storey, Pilot wanted to run across to the stairs, but Charles instantly stepped in front of him, blocking his way.

"Don't go. I don't want anyone to run into another trap, do you understand me?" the sniper advised in a low voice.

"But there's nobody here!" Pilot replied, pushing him away.

"You don't know what's waiting behind these pillars! There could be more gunners lurking, waiting for us to make a wrong step."

"But how are you gonna know for sure, Snipster?"

Charles fell silent and exchanged a glance with Gromov, expecting some sort of help, but the engineer only shrugged. As he turned back to Pilot, he found only the backpack lying on the floor where the man had stood just a second ago.

"There's nobody here!" the swordsman's voice suddenly came from the other side of the hall, and he continued running towards the stairs.

"Hey Pilot, get back here!" Snippy commanded, but the man ignored him and disappeared from his field of view. "Goddamn it, will he ever listen to me?"

Engie stayed near him, seeming quite anxious.

They both tensed as they heard shots coming from below and a panicking Pilot rushed back towards them.

"There's about six down there and they don't look friendly!" he called out as he leaped towards them.

In the same moment Charles saw two riflemen coming up the stairs.

"Oh my... keep your heads down, everyone. They're coming!" he commanded with despair in his voice, as he crouched behind a pillar and deftly reloaded his machine gun.

As soon as the men emerged, Snippy instantly opened fire. Without a chance to dodge, two hostile gunners went down, but it didn't end there.

He only had a short pause to recover from the pain in his side that resurfaced in this untimely moment.

Two more emerged from the pillars at the stairs and fired at them, missing the sniper by a mere whisker.

After a short exchange of shots from both sides, the remaining gunners dropped dead and the gloomy silence returned to the place.

A soft yelp from beside him alarmed Charles and he looked for his comrades.

It seemed that in the shootout, a bullet had grazed Pilots sleeve and had burned a hole into the leather.

"Gosh, why didn't you stay behind the pillar?" the sniper hissed irritably as he pushed him to safety behind the pillar. Curiously, the waiting engineer observed the two, only just seeming to realize what was happening, but he remained quiet.

"Hey, get your hands off me, you jiggly slug! There wasn't enough space for- oww!"

Pilot flinched as Charles inspected the burned spot on the jacket. The shot had only left a slightly scorched graze that barely went through the top layer of his skin.

"Well, you were lucky this time and got away with a scratch," Snippy noted, finally letting go of Pilot who furiously pulled his arm back. "Don't be so reckless about your cover, Pilot. This is no game..."

"...says the one who already got himself shot once today," Engie pointed out and crossed his arms.

"Oh shut up..." Snippy growled at the other man while he busied himself with putting a full magazine into his gun and dropping the old one to the floor.

He peeked around the edge to see if there were more soldiers coming, but he spotted none. For a moment, his surroundings seemed to spin. His side ached horribly and he felt exhausted, but he shook his head and closed his eyes for a few seconds, taking some deep breaths.

"You alright?" the engineer asked him, seeming concerned.

The question hit him quite unexpectedly and interrupted his every thought.

"I'm fine," Snippy replied quickly, and resumed an upright position, looking over at his comrades. "Come on, let's get going while it's still safe."

With that, the crew led by the wounded sniper moved to the stairs and gathered at the pillar down in the first storey. The backpackers were panting heavily as they arrived and looked extremely exhausted, though they still seemed quite happy about their progress.

"Only one more storey to go and we're free!" Engie announced under his breath, but the marksman instantly shushed him and grabbed him by the backpack, pulling him into cover.

The sound of footsteps drifted ominously towards them and Charles knew that they could only mean one thing...

"More bad guys incoming!" Pilot suddenly announced, and assumed a fighting stance, his katana ready to strike.

"W-what? H-h-how many are they?" the fazed engineer stuttered nervously.

"Just three. Shouldn't be too hard," Snippy answered after a short look, and readied himself.

Carefully, he glanced forth from the edge once more and a few single shots instantly came flying in his direction. Startled, he stepped too far back, which soon turned out to be a horrible decision. In that second, a bullet coming from the other side missed his leg by a millimeter. The impact blew a small hole into the wall behind him.

"Shit... this is bad!" the marksman gasped, and pushed himself against the pillar, pulling the others closer.

"What's wrong?" Gromov inquired.

"They're coming from both sides. If we let them circle us in, it'll blow our cover completely," he explained.

Now knowing where they came from, he could probably take out two of them at once, but he had to be fast. The last thing he wanted now was to give them enough time to aim.

As he moved to go into the offensive and shoot, he found himself pointing his gun into an empty aisle.

Expecting devious shots in return, the marksman quickly stepped back and checked the other side. They had regrouped and two were now on this side, but the third one had gone mysteriously missing.

_This must be some kind of stupid trick. Just what are they plotting?_ he pondered.

If their foes wanted to force them back in order to step into a trap, the only chance to avoid it would be to take out the soldiers that were coming dangerously close as soon as possible.

"Charles!" Engie squeaked, and pointed at a gunner who seemed to have popped out of nowhere and was now at close range.

Snippy instinctively smacked his gun towards the man full force, catching him unexpectedly and causing him to stagger back. A flurry of shots that went right through the heart ended the man's life for good and stained the tiled floor below his fallen corpse with blood.

Gromov crouched on the ground with his arms shielding his head, trembling in terror from the close gunfire.

A short time later, another one appeared on the opposite side of the pillar. In a matter of seconds Pilot had slain the hostile gunner before Charles could even blink. With a clank, the black revolver fell to the floor, as the dead body collapsed.

As he stared down at it, trying to fight a sudden wave of dizziness, Snippy watched a puddle of blood forming around the corpse. The strap on his shoulder that carried his rifle felt like it was pulling him down with its weight and the gun in his hand wasn't any better. He needed to lay off some weight in order to still move deftly enough to fight.

"Hey Pilot. Hold still for a moment," he suddenly demanded, and attached the heavy weapons to the sides of the man's backpack.

Out of curiosity, he picked up the dead soldier's weapon and inspected it.

"What are you doing, Charles?" Gromov inquired as he watched him check the ammunition of the weapon.

"The way out lies just down the stairs and straight ahead," the marksman muttered, not paying attention to him. "I think these four bullets should be more than enough."

"What if they aren't?!" Alexander cut in, still huddled on the floor beside the pillar. "If there are more soldiers, we're all going to die!"

"No we won't. Besides, we just cleared the way and there shouldn't be many soldiers left in here anymore. And in case the bullets run out, I still have my other guns left. Now that Pilot carries them I can just grab them and shoot."

"Or I take them down with my sword!" Pilot exclaimed with satisfaction. "What are we waiting for, slugs? Freedom lies ahead!"

Alexander arose from his crouched posture a little bit too quickly and fought with his balance as a sudden dizziness caused him to sway and the heavy bag on his back pulled him down.

Out of reaction, Snippy caught him by the arm in the middle of the fall and helped him back up.

"Woah! Caught me just in time," the engineer gasped, and Charles let go of him.

"Uhm, okay. You're welcome."

"I hear voices!" Pilot interrupted the others, and they fell silent in an instant.

Footsteps sounded from above, accompanied by a commanding voice: "Don't let them escape!"

"Clear for action! I'll have to call in reinforcements!" the green eyed man suddenly announced, and dashed off without a warning.

"What...- Wait wait wait, where are you going?! Hey Pilot, come back! You still have my guns!" Snippy demanded, but his voice was drowned out by a sudden burst of gunfire and he had to take cover.

"_For fuck's sake..._"

The marksman looked up and spotted a few soldiers moving along the aisles in the storey above. Careful not to waste ammo, he chose his shots wisely.

As he pulled the trigger, the bullet shot through the glass and sharp fragments flew right into a small group of soldiers. An unlucky one was hit by the bullet and another one took severe damage from the sharp edged glass cutting its way into his throat. Snippy saw them drop to the floor, groaning in agony. One of the two remaining men stayed with them, while the other one moved on.

_Three bullets left, _the marksman noted.

"It's not safe here. Maybe we should just leave this spot and go after Pilot..." Engie suggested from behind his back.

"...and let the ones coming from above just shoot us in the back? Right, awesome plan, Engie," Snippy answered irritably as he held focus on the hostiles, trying to ignore his throbbing side.

Upon noticing the growing sound of footsteps, the sniper patiently waited for the foe to set foot on the first storey before he swiftly popped out from behind the pillar and fired off a bullet.

After the loud bang, pained sounds came from the man around the corner, but no thud sound followed.

"Augh...! You goddamn bastard! Get out from your hideout so I can blow your head off!" the man cursed while Snippy heard him load his shotgun behind the other pillar.

"Crap..." the sniper whispered and desperately tried to think of a plan, but he couldn't clear his head enough to come up with one.

"You didn't hit him in the right spot?" Gromov asked, all psyched up, and he noticed his companion becoming nervous.

"Yeah. And I only have two shots left. I'm gonna claim his goddamn shotgun when I'm done with him."

The foe moved closer.

"I told you you'd run out of bullets!" the engineer hissed at his crew mate, seeming quite pissed by now. "You should have listened to me, then we wouldn't end up in situations like-"

"Just shut the hell up and stop distracting me, okay? He's coming..." Snippy hissed furiously and dared a quick glance forth.

A painfully loud bang numbed his ears as a shot went off right next to his head and recoiled on the concrete pillar.

After that, someone seemed to be talking to him but for the moment all he registered were woozy, unclear voices and a hand pulling him back by the shoulder.

As a large figure appeared right in front of him, his quick reaction saved him at last and his shot hit his target fatally in the neck. With a gurgle, the man toppled over and stopped moving. The first thing Snippy did was pick up the new gun and inspect the clip that contained a total of three bullets.

Slowly, his hearing recovered and he heard Engie's ranting.

"Did you hear what I said? Answer me, damn it!" he scolded, shaking him by the shoulders.

That didn't help against the dizziness at all and only made his pain worse.

"God, stop it!" Snippy snarled at his inpatient crew mate, and pushed him away. "What's wrong? What are you so upset about? The guy's dead."

"Damn it Charles, it's not about him! I told you, I saw Pilot in the ground layer and a shootout happened down there. It seems there were more soldiers than you expected after all. What are you gonna do now? Huh?!" he admonished the marksman, who leaned against the pillar, massaging his temples.

"Alright, calm down! Now, tell me exactly what you saw," Snippy inquired rationally, putting his anger aside. "Did Pilot escape? Were there any more soldiers down there?"

"Well... while you were busy with this guy here, I looked down for a moment and saw Pilot fighting two of them, down near the stairs. He managed to trick them somehow and struck them down within seconds, then he headed for the door. Besides that, I didn't really see anyone else down there," the engineer explained. "But you never know! I wouldn't trust these dark corners."

"Good. So at least he made it out alive," the marksman assumed and sighed in relief, sorting his thoughts before he focused on his fellow in the fur lined coat and spoke up. "Alright Gromov, here's the plan. I'm going to check if there are any more soldiers down there and clear the way if any will show up. Wait here until I call you, and keep an eye on what's happening above. If you think they're about to come down, get the hell out of here and follow up. Got that?"

"Meh, fine. I'll stay here and wait," Gromov murmured a he slid down with his back to the pillar.

In Snippy's eyes, he didn't look quite happy about the plan, but he didn't blame the man. Staying behind completely unarmed was something even he would refuse to do. But going with him could be even more dangerous and he couldn't guarantee the safety of his fellow.

Silently he picked up the gun he had left behind that only had one bullet left.

"Here, take this," the marksman said, and handed it to him. "It's better than nothing, just in case something happens. Just pull the trigger and shoot; shouldn't be too hard. It's loaded and ready. Don't waste that last bullet that's left inside."

"Hey Charles..." the seated engineer said, looking up at him. "Don't leave me here alone for too long, okay?"

"I won't let you down. You can count on me, I promise," Snippy reassured him, before he turned around and took the stairs down.

Engie's fear grew with every meter the sniper distanced himself as he watched him go. Hearing a clang from above sent a shiver down his spine and he looked up, but nobody seemed to be there.

What would happen if the enemy took the opportunity for an ambush, now that they were separated? What if they took him hostage, or even worse, shot him down on the spot?

Shaking off these bad thoughts, he pulled himself together, reassuring himself that everything would be alright and that there was no point in getting all worked up. Even though Snippy had thrust a rifle into his hands, he wasn't sure he could keep it steady and successfully shoot something if he really had to.

Swallowing his anxiety, Gromov took a few deep breaths, tightening his grip around the gun in his hands.

Closely listening to the low sounds of creaking metal and shallow footsteps that broke the tense silence every now and then, he stayed wary and busied himself by counting the minutes Charles was gone.

It wasn't an easy choice leaving Alexander back there all alone, but Snippy blamed it all on Pilot for randomly deciding to run away. However, this was not the right time to get upset about him.

With his gun raised, he paced through the area, leaving no spot unexamined. His injury made every movement unpleasant and slowed him down, but he wouldn't let that disrupt him. He would take his time and fire when necessary.

Somewhere near the stairs he spotted two unmoving gunners on the floor, lying close together. As he passed them, the sniper tried not to step in the splatters of blood that stained the floor around the bodies.

Spotting no one alive around the stair area, he moved on to the entrance way and felt an icy cold breeze, sending piercing shivers through his whole body. For a moment he had to fight the returning dizziness that started to obscure his vision with strange colors, but a few deep breaths later he managed to recover himself.

Pacing further on, he kept searching the area for hostiles, but ended up finding none. Glaring light came from the widely opened door and it took a while for his eyes to adjust.

The mission would end here and all that was left to do now was to call Gromov.

Snippy could barely wait to return home from this distressing mission.

Peering back through the hall, he made out a silhouette standing slightly hunched over next to the dead body near the stairs.

Still blinded from the strong light and the irritating blur in his vision, he walked a few steps towards him.

"Are you coming, Gromov?" he yelled, squinting his eyes. "I inspected the place; I think it's safe now. There are no-"

He broke off as his vision finally cleared and he realized that he hadn't been talking to Gromov. The shock hit him like a punch in his stomach.

For a moment he was unable to move, despite every instinct telling him to _get the hell out of there!_

There had been two soldiers on the ground before, but now one stood upright just about ten meters from him, holding a black rifle in his hands.

No cover. No time to aim. It all happened too fast as Snippy saw his chance pass by like a leaf in a wind.

With a quick jolt, he yanked up his weapon and pulled the trigger. All he hoped for was luck, but just in that moment it had abandoned him. His gun jammed.

A second later, he saw the soldier's rifle flash up.

All his hopes faded with a sudden impact in his right shoulder, the force making him stagger back. Through gritted teeth he cursed to himself and gasped.

Feeling the searing bullet cauterizing the tissue around it, the pain brought him to a point where he could no longer hold onto the gun, and the heavy weapon slid out of the sniper's hand.

_This is bad..._ Snippy thought as he tried to focus on the soldier. He heard a few clicking noises, seemingly coming from an empty gun. In the back of his head he heard the guy swearing.

The sniper's already poor condition worsened with every second, especially now that blood started gushing from the gunshot wound. Tormented by the excruciating pain, he staggered, fighting to stay on his feet, but his vision blurred, ears numb from shock.

His muscles burned perilously, telling him that they would soon give out. The last thing he perceived was that he collapsed, before his world turned black.

In the moment after the short blackout, it was unclear to him what had just happened, as he found himself lying on his side. Blinking his eyes, he tried to wipe away the blur in his vision, finally making out his arms and below them some splatters of blood on the floor, his gun lying not far from him.

As he focused on two boots standing by him, he looked up. In the second he recognized the soldier who stood there, staring down at him, everything inside him startled.

Automatically he tried to reach for the gun on the floor, but moving his arm felt like someone turning a knife around inside his shoulder and he instantly regretted this horrible idea. Face twisted in pain, he ceased any further actions.

"You don't know when it's time to give up, do you..." he heard the man chuckle.

Snippy ignored him. Deep inside he hoped that Gromov would get his ass up and shoot the guy before it was too late.

_What am I hoping for...? Of course he won't do it. Maybe he's even watching me right now from his spot up there, _he thought, and peered up to the stairs. Alexander was nowhere to be seen.

"Look at me when I talk to you, bastard!" the soldier hissed, now in a completely stern tone with every hint of amusement gone.

The man lifted his leg and unexpectedly pushed his foot against the side of the sniper's chest to flip him over.

Tensing up in the agony his injury gave him, his consciousness started to dangerously sway, but it stabilized as he caught himself again, panting laboriously.

Inspecting the soldier anew, he noticed a nasty, bloody cleft crossing the man's chest, probably courtesy of Pilot's attack. By the looks of it, Charles assumed that the man must be scraping together his last energy to stand there right now.

"Killing my friends up there was a terrible mistake," the soldier muttered.

While reloading his weapon, the soldier kept the prostrated sniper in vision, who just observed while remaining silent, giving a wince of pain every now and then.

"You're going to pay for what you did there, bastard," he said before he pointed the rifle at Snippy, his finger on the trigger. "I'll make sure you and your friend won't make it out of this building alive."

Staring up at the weapon that would soon end his life, Snippy's eyes widened in fear and he nervously grasped the ground under his fingers as if he could escape the inevitable by holding on to it, but a part of him already started to accept his fate.

Completely helpless, the sniper shut his eyes and flinched as he heard a terribly loud shot, seemingly shattering every cell inside his ears and setting free a thousand pictures originating from memories of his life. The faces he saw behind his eyes became clear like a photograph in hand. Many people appeared in his mind, as if they wanted to say goodbye. The last ones he saw were Captain, Pilot and Gromov, then his mind went blank.

For one moment he thought it was finally over for him.

But the seconds just continued passing by in his head and his heart rushed so intensely that he could hear each beat thud inside his head.

_What happened? Why am I still alive? Did the shot miss?_, the marksman wondered and only dared to open his eyes slowly. What he saw confused him.

A fountain of blood spurted out from the side of the soldier's throat, and his body fell to the floor like a limp, soulless puppet.

_But how...? Did Gromov finally get over himself and fire a shot? Was this his work?_ Snippy wondered and peered about, searching the environment for an answer.

Finally he found it, but it was the last thing he had expected.

A tall, brawny man emerged from the shadows, mounting a wooden sniper rifle on his shoulder as he approached him with slow steps. The first thing Charles noticed was a bandage wrapped around his right arm.

_Could it be?_

As Snippy recognized that person, he startled, flinching back in shock. As he dared to move his right arm in order to push himself off the ground, a surge of pain shot through his shoulder, forcing him back down.

"Stay away from me...!" he grunted and grasped the floor below him, panting shakily.

"Sshh... calm down, Sniper," the strong looking man soothed him, an oddly comforting tone in his voice. "I'm not here to harm you."

"But..." the marksman started, trying to pull the right words from the jumble inside his head.

Flinching at the sudden movement of the other man, he watched as Stan put his gun on the floor and waited for an explanation for all this.

"Your life... for mine."

Silence filled the air as Snippy stared at it in disbelief and glanced back up to the executioner.

"It looks like I'll have to do a lot to compensate for what happened today. First off, let me inform you: The side of Stan you knew... well, I decided to get rid of it. The Boss manipulated my every action, even my thoughts. I should have realized the truth much earlier, before the old geezer decided to turn his back on me," he spoke with a note of shame in his voice and lifted his head, gazing down at the anxious sniper and put a smile on his face as he continued.

"I sincerely have to thank you for sparing me up there. I think there is no reason for you and I to be enemies anymore," he added, and paused. "I'm really sorry for what happened..."

"But... but..." Charles stuttered with a low voice. This all seemed a bit too convenient to be true.

He took a pause and slowly sat up, keeping in mind this time not to move his right arm under any circumstances.

"But... what?" the tall man inquired, watching him struggle.

"How can I trust you?" he asked, still utterly confused. "After all, you tried to kill me and my crew..."

"You'll have to. There is a group of soldiers coming in from the outside soon; I heard it through the radio call that connects all of our people. They will try to stop you, no matter what. Your friend can't shoot and you're not about to do anything strenuous any time soon. You probably won't make it out of this alive if you go alone," he reminded him, shaking his head to emphasize his last words. "Not with that bullet in you."

That got the marksman to struggle with his thoughts.

He found it hard to accept help from Stan; what he had done couldn't just be made up with words, in his opinion. But what choice did he have? This was a situation with only one way out.

Alexander lay against the back of the pillar in the first storey, clasping the gun Snippy had left him with, eyes constantly searching the area for movements he hoped wouldn't come.

Since he had heard the shots and the distant voices, he didn't dare to move a finger. By now he was through with all good and bad speculations he could make up in his head and sat, waiting for something to happen, hoping for someone to come and get him out of here.

If the enemy found him, he would prefer to surrender rather than getting shot running away or trying to shoot back. He looked down at the weapon in his hands, wondering why he still held it.

_Silly Charles... I can't fire a gun. I'm short sighted in both eyes. Just enough to not see the target clearly._

As somebody called out to him, Engie instantly got up, hauling the backpack over his shoulders.

Then he stepped forth and dared a look down, making out two people, one standing and one seated on the floor.

_Wait- why is Charles on the ground?_ Alexander wondered. Suddenly his heart skipped a beat and he startled, fearing the worst.

_Who is that person with him? Did he get captured by the enemy?!_

Clasping the revolver with both his hands,the engineer gave himself a shake and made his way down the stairs, ready to defend himself if he had to.

Firmly clutching the wound in his shoulder with his left hand, Snippy tried to stop the blood from leaving his body, but staying awake was difficult, as every breath or movement caused him pain.

"He's coming. Is he armed?"

"Yeah, I gave him a gun, but he's probably not going to use it..." Snippy muttered absently.

"That could still be a problem," Stan pointed out, picking up his rifle.

"Wait... what are you doing?!" Charles gasped, suddenly alarmed as he saw him aiming the rifle at his colleague.

"I'm not gonna take the risk."

"Put it down..."

Not accomplishing anything, Snippy tried to reach for the shotgun with his foot, but only ended up kicking it farther away.

"Don't even try," Stan warned him without even looking back. "If you shoot with that thing now, the recoil is probably going to _rip your arm off_. But you most likely wouldn't even be able to lift the rifle up right now, so _forget it_."

"Just promise me not to shoot him," Charles demanded.

"We'll see how things turn out."

Fretting about the man's stubbornness, the sniper gazed towards the stairs and saw something moving, but his vision wasn't sharp enough to make out any details. Weakened by exhaustion and pain, he lay down and strained to listen to hear what was going on.

Trotting towards the bright light, Engie blinked his eyes to accommodate, before finally spotting the brawny man. But in the moment he saw a rifle pointing directly towards him, a shock shot through his heart and panic exploded inside him.

"Put your gun down!" he heard a voice call out to him. "I'm not gonna hesitate to shoot."

He recognized that voice, it had buried itself too deep in his memory to forget it so soon and it unsettled him even more. Then he spotted Snippy lying on the floor, twitching barely noticeably. A heavy surge of concern coursed through him as he realized that he was barely breathing anymore.

"What did you do to him?!" the engineer inquired, tightening the grip around his gun.

"As much as you'd like to believe that, this is none of my doing. He got shot by one of those soldiers here," Stan explained calmly. "Now put your gun down. I promise, I won't shoot you if you obey."

Alexander trembled thorough his whole body from agitation, struggling with the decision whether to trust him or not and with the consequences his decision might bring.

"Put your gun down, Alex..." he heard Charles mutter, just loudly enough for him to hear. "It's not easy, but you have to trust him. He's probably our last hope."

"Him?!" the engineer shouted, jabbing his finger at Stan. "Did you completely forget that he tried to kill us? What makes you think you can trust him?"

"Goddamn it Gromov, just do it!" the sniper berated him irritably and groaned from the pain his commotion entailed.

For a moment Alex just kept his gaze down and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to sort out his conflicting thoughts, but a second later he came to a decision and took a deep breath.

"Alright. So be it..." he said resignedly.

The small gun was hurled across the room and slid across the tile floor before it came to halt at Stan's feet. As agreed upon, the man put his rifle down, keeping his gaze on Gromov while he mounted the weapon on his back.

Unable to wait any longer, Engie ran straight to Snippy and dropped to his knees beside him.

He looked horrible as he lay there, breathing unevenly, trembling and wincing from pain.

Alex already felt churned up at the sight of all the blood that covered the right side of the sniper's chest, but as he gently brushed the hand away and got a view at the gunshot wound, deep concern overwhelmed him, a feeling that tore his heart asunder.

_This is all my fault... I should have watched his back and warned him_, he thought regretfully.

The tall man stepped over to the nearby corpse and stripped the dead man's fur lined coat off, handing it to Engie.

"Here, cover your friend with that. His condition will worsen if we don't keep him warm enough."

Absentmindedly the engineer took the jacket and wrapped the sniper in it as well as he could.

"Don't worry... I'll get you both out of this," Stan reassured him, putting his hand on the other man's shoulder. "But you'll have to assist me if you want me to help you."

"What is it that you want me to do?" Gromov asked without turning around.

"I'm going to carry your sniper out of here, but you'll have to guard my back once we're past the door. Can you use a gun, perhaps?"

_Not this again... I should have guessed_, Alexander thought frustratedly.

"I can try..." he finally responded after a short pause.

"Good," Stan said and pulled a black pistol from his belt before he started demonstrating a basic tutorial. "Take a quick look. This is how you lock and unlock it and that's how you load it. You can ask me for more ammunition if you run out. Oh, there's one more thing you should know: don't underestimate it because of the size. The recoil isn't half bad."

With that, he thrust the gun into the surprised engineer's hands, who fumbled and almost dropped it. In the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of the strong man and watched him as he knelt down close beside Charles.

"We're going to leave, sniper. Are you ready?"

"Just get us out of here already..." Snippy muttered faintly.

"Okay, I'm gonna lift you up now," Stan informed him.

Carefully he positioned his arms beneath the sniper's neck and knees, before he rose. Engie flinched on the inside as he heard his comrade groaning up in pain, but he looked away and sorted his thoughts. Shaking off worry, he tried to clear his head and focus on the upcoming escort he was charged with.

"Alex, right?" Stan asked, and focused his gaze on Gromov, waiting for confirmation.

"Yes, Alexander it is."

"Okay. You're going to lead the way, Alex. I'll guard your back as I follow. Go!"

With a belated nod, the engineer turned to the door and started to move.

_So that's how Charles must have felt when he escorted me and Pilot... Not the most pleasant feeling, in my opinion,_ he thought to himself as he passed through the door.

Finally back in the open, flakes of snow came flying towards him before the gust of a raging blizzard almost swept him off his feet, and he braced himself against the strong wind.

Stan dared one last glance back into the building before he moved on and slowly started catching up.

"Wait up, Alex! There's something big ahead! Can't you see it?" he barely heard the man warn him through the howling sounds of the wind.

"What? I can't see anything through all this snow!" Gromov yelled back, shielding his face with his arm.

Squinting into the storm, he slowly made out a big, ominous something moving through the blizzard, towering up every time it stopped and finally falling back down again. There were plenty of men around the beast, firing their guns at it, but it didn't even seem to notice the impact of the shots.

"What the... is it eating these soldiers?!" the engineer asked in confusion as he watched the big worm swallow down the last standing man.

With sudden fear he realized that it had spotted them and felt his hackles rise.

"Shit... it's coming towards us!" Stan noticed at the same time, and took a step back, grip tightening on Snippy.

With that, Gromov's most terrifying thoughts fell into place. The monster approached, gaining speed with every second. Slowly losing the feeling in his knees, he tried to move but the shock had taken control of him.

"Shoot it in the eyes, Alex! Come on, you can do it!"

Everything went mute in the moment the giant tunneler worm opened its jaws, revealing five rows of sharp, bloody teeth, spitting splatters of blood into the white snow as released an unearthly roar.

Just a few seconds before it could reach him, a voice rang through the storm.

"Stop, Photoshop!"

Suddenly the monster worm braked, almost sliding all the way over Engie, who just managed to dodge by throwing himself to the side.

Heart racing wildly, he lay in the snow and watched a person trotting towards him. It was hard to make out small details in the blizzard, but the green tinted flying goggles, the aviator headgear and the huge backpack gave his identity away.

"Pilot?!" Gromov gasped disbelievingly and pushed himself off the ground.

"Good girl... here's a snack for you," he extolled the giant beast and tossed it something that looked disconcertingly like a severed arm.

Following the arm with all of its eyes, the mutated monster worm snapped it out of the air and crunched the snack gleefully.

Stan and Alex blankly watched the scenario, trying to figure out what had just happened.

"You control that monstrosity?" the two asked almost at the same time, both completely astounded.

"Stop calling her a monster, you dumb shoes! She is very sensitive!" Pilot hissed at them and gesticulated wildly. "Photoshop is my and Captain's pet. Treat her nicely, or I'll serve her your butts for breakfast!"

"Alright..." Engie began. "Thank you, Photoshop, for eating the adversarial reinforcements."

"Now that's how it's done!" Pilot said gleefully, suddenly in a much better mood. "Anyways, what took you so long? And who is that shoe that is carrying Snipster?"

"He is helping us. Now, can we please-"

"Isn't he the gun thief who tried to kill us?" Pilot interrupted him rudely and strode towards Stan with his sword in hand, but Engie hurriedly intervened.

"Look Pilot, we don't have time for long explanations right now. You need to get us home as soon as possible!" Gromov instructed him. "You know the way, right?"

To his own surprise, Pilot nodded and put his sword away.

"Come on, Photoshop, we're going home!"

The beast softly growled and turned around before it finally started moving.

"This way, Mr. Engie," the green-eyed man advised and motioned him to follow.

After exchanging a short glance with Stan, the engineer began to move along after the swordsman.

_I really hope you know what you're doing, for the good of all of us; especially Charles,_ Alexander thought, deeply hoping that he did right to trust Pilot.

A shiver ran through him as he thought of what would happen to the sniper if they stayed out here for too long.

_No, stop thinking. Enough. He won't die. Stan won't let him... I won't let him. And Seven..., _he hesitated as his flow of thoughts abruptly ended. _Seven... sometimes I think he doesn't give a shit about anyone but himself._

* * *

**Ps: Please share your thoughts in a quick review =)**_**  
**_


	4. A Matter of Trust

**The final part of the story is here! (hugs to eight of hearts for corrections!)  
**

**Contains some drama, a few half-hearted attempts to cheer the situation up a little, and a surgery.  
**

* * *

**Chapter 4**:** A Matter of Trust**

* * *

Deep in thought, the engineer sighed and silently continued walking behind Pilot, alongside his new, taller companion. His wounded comrade lay in Stan's arms, blankly gazing up at the sky and trembling horribly with every breath.

"Stay awake, Charles, you hear me?" Alex reassured him, gently stroking his hand over Snippy's head. "We'll pull you through this. Just hang in there a little bit longer."

The sniper seemed to nod, but it was hard to tell as they walked.

As the storm subsided a bit, the dense air in the city finally began to clear, but the sky remained covered with thick clouds as always.

"Home in sight!" Pilot yelled suddenly, and picked up speed, but the heavy load on his back and the debilitating cold didn't allow him to run very fast, so the group trotted towards the entrance while Photoshop ran ahead.

Gromov let out a sigh of relief, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders as everyone gathered inside, chucking backpacks on the ground and leaning against the walls. The first thing he did was shut the door behind him to block out the cold. _Safe at last._

Pilot eagerly began to unpack the bags, returning the contents to their usual places.

"Yes! The mug has been successfully rescued! Now it can shine once again, restored to its former glory in its rightful place in Captain's base!"

Dead tired from the day, the engineer wondered where the other man had gotten all that energy from, hyperactive as he was all the time.

Putting his speculations aside for a moment, he looked over at Stan. The man knelt by the flat couch, scrutinizing the sniper. Snow lay scattered all across the floor and covered their clothes in a cold, white veil.

Quickly but gently, Stan ripped the cloth around the bullet hole open, probably to get a better view of the wound.

Even though anxiety held him back at first, a mix of curiosity and concern finally dragged the engineer over to him.

For a moment he turned his gaze to Snippy, whose condition seemed to have grown worse since they had left. His clothes were soaked in blood and he fought for every breath. As Stan stripped the goggles off the snipers head, his skin was revealed, alarmingly pale and clammy.

"Hey Alex... do you have any blankets here?" Stan asked over his shoulder, rousing him from his absent thoughts.

"Uhm yeah, why?"

"Bring them here," he uttered, stroking his hand over the sniper's head. "He's shaking badly... We need to keep him warm."

With a short nod, the engineer made his way to the other room. A minute later, a wobbly pile of blankets came walking through the door frame. As Alex accidentally stepped on one of the loose-hanging edges, he stumbled and face-planted towards Stan, hitting the floor with a yelp.

After helping him up, the brawny man took the two soft blankets from the engineer and carefully covered Snippy with them.

"Okay, he should be good with these," he muttered, looking down at the sniper. "Oh, about that gunshot wound... Give me a short break before I inspect it further. For now, the bleeding seems to have slowed down. Although I can't guarantee that it's going to stay that way. As for the bullet... Well, I'm not sure if-"

"What about the bullet?"

"We may or may not have to remove it. If it's not necessary, we won't," the man explained, and walked over to the table, taking a seat on one of the chairs. "But that depends on whether it's intact."

"What do you mean?" the engineer inquired, staying near Snippy.

"Usually, every bullet is sterile and doesn't need to be removed, but sometimes cloth comes along and gets stuck inside, causing a nasty infection. Sometimes the bullet shatters... which means it could cause further damage and pain if not removed. It may happen to sit in a bad spot near an ankle or even break a bone, if fired from close enough," the tall man explained. "Hell, there's plenty of stuff that could go wrong, and those are just a few of them... You'd do damn well to stay out of those gunfights, Alex."

The man chuckled heartily behind his mask, and the engineer couldn't help but form a small smile. From the corner of his eye he saw Snippy moving. The sniper reached for Engie and gently tugged on his trouser leg to get his attention.

"Hey Alex..." he said softly.

Upon hearing his voice, Engie's heart skipped a beat.

"How do you feel, Charles?" he hastily inquired, turning towards his buddy.

_Gosh, Alex, was that the only question you could come up with? That was more than unnecessary,_he thought to himself immediately, wondering why he would ask him about the most obvious fact there was.

"Horrible," the sniper stated with a hint of a smirk on his face, followed by a snort.

_It's intriguing how he's still up for a laugh in his condition,_Engie noticed, but couldn't help but feel glad about it.

"Would you bring me a small bottle of water, please? I'm parched..."

"Uh, sure thing, Snips," he said, turning away. "Hey Stan, will you be my guest? We've got water, coke and vodka."

"Coke for me, please!" Pilot called out from somewhere else in the building.

"Hey, get a drink yourself!" Engie snapped at him jokingly, and Stan started to chuckle as he got up from his chair.

"I'll come with you. We're going to need some water and alc for the treatment anyway, so while we're at it we can get drinks for everyone," he offered. "Show me where you store them, Alex."

Gromov nodded and waved for him to come along, before they left the room together.

After the engineer had lifted some containers from the shelf, it was Stan who initiated a conversation.

"You're so lucky to have Charles as your leader... He's a good guy, unlike my ex-boss..."

Alex continued to work, chuckling quietly over what the other man had said.

"What's so funny?" the taller man wanted to know, noticeably confused about his reaction.

"He's not our leader," the copper-eyed man explained calmly. "He's just our sniper... nothing more."

"What? But why...?"

"He only decided to take the role of a leader today because our real captain wasn't around. It was a lie to deflect your boss' attention from our leader," Alexander explained, and leaned against the wall with a sigh.

"But even if he was a leader... he would make a horrible one. Usually, nobody gives a damn about what he says, or respects him in any way. It's a miracle that he got Pilot to do those few things for him today..."

"I beg to differ," Stan muttered.

"Why do you think so?"

"Didn't he successfully guide you both past the army of my ex-boss and get you out of trouble alive and unharmed?" the brawny man reminded him. "Yeah, I'm damn sure a bad leader wouldn't be able to do that. And in the moment he told you to put the gun down... you trusted him, didn't you?"

"Eh... Perhaps he may be better at leading battles and with firearms than the rest of us, but that doesn't mean that I would accept him as a leader. After all, he used to work below me, before the nuclear fallout-"

"How can you say that?! Just who are you..." Stan hissed, starting to sound irritated.

"That's... not important!" Alex amended quickly, looking for a way to deflect the man's attention. "Come on, we need to bring these drinks to-"

Without giving him a chance to defend himself, Stan grabbed the engineer in one agile move and roughly pushed him against the wall, yanking his gas mask and goggles down.

"I should have known it was you... the signs were too obvious," Stan spat, voice dripping with contempt. "Dr. Alexander Gromov... you're the man responsible for all this. You murdered millions of people with your monstrous invention! I don't even know how you can sleep with that on your conscience..."

Gaze dropping to the floor, the engineer knew he would never get the other man's sympathy back again as easily as he had lost it. But telling him that Captain was the one who made his nearly perfect system go insane wouldn't make things better now. It would probably only make things worse.

"I didn't have a choice..." he began timidly, and put his respirator and goggles back on.

"Explain."

"Humanity was already lost before I sent my final orders to drop the bombs," Alexander confessed, and released a gloomy sigh. "What was left of mankind was nothing but mindless, empty shells, wandering the streets to destroy whatever was left of the world we knew. Their brains were fried by the shock waves ANNET sent out and the only thing that still kept them alive were their headsets, with only one purpose – to serve HER."

"See, that's just the reason why my ex-boss was against this ANNET project since we first heard of it," Stan growled. "He told us that this network would take over humanity by collecting our thoughts and robbing us of our privacy, observing our each and every step, even our thoughts. He knew that something wasn't right with your dumb machine all along. You brought nothing but chaos with your invention!"

"She was perfectly fine until a hacker disrupted her server. The attack made her completely insane and took her morality!" Alexander yelled, telling only half the truth. "She infected everyone she could reach. But those who she couldn't... they were nothing but fair game in her eyes. Subjects, merely existing to sate her thirst for blood and unleash her anger on, nothing more."

So many horrifying memories came back to him as he spoke, and he noticed that his hands had started to tremble. A queasy feeling overcame him as he thought back to the day he walked through the hallway to his office and passed all the dissected and decapitated bodies that seemed to stare at him through their empty eye sockets. They were people he had talked to every day, his employees, his scientists, his co-workers. Slaughtered by his machine, his beloved Annie...

"All I wanted was to put an end to this madness..." he confessed, voice shaking.

Stan stared down at him, but remained silent. Tension hung in the air, unpleasant and oppressive, making Engie squirm. The muscles in his back and neck had become so cramped from the mental pressure on him that he felt like they would snap at any moment. With every second, the sensation grew stronger, until he felt like he couldn't take it anymore.

Finally, the taller man sighed and let go, causing Gromov to let out a breath and relax visibly. However, the engineer didn't attempt to move and just kept staring blankly at the ground.

Old scars had been ripped back open and at that moment he realized that after all the time that had passed, he still hadn't come in terms with his traumatic memories.

"I didn't want it all to end like this..." he said slowly, sliding down the wall to crouch with his head in his hands, still trembling. "I just... I'm so sorry..."

A while passed before he felt a hand on his shoulder. He tentatively raised his head.

"Hey... let's just forget about it," Stan sighed, and helped him back up. "Throwing all the hate in the world at you won't make things undone... even if what you did is unforgivable."

For a while Gromov stared at him silently and then looked down, sniffing behind his mask.

"Come on, let's bring these bottles to the others. They've probably started wondering what's taking us so long."

"Yeah. We shouldn't make 'em wait," the engineer agreed, and picked up the bottles, including a coke for Pilot and a bottle of vodka for himself. He'd definitely need it after this day.

Returning to the room where the others had been waiting, Engie spotted Pilot sitting on the ground with his back leaning against the couch.

Snippy seemed to have dozed off into a state between sleep and waking, his chest slowly rising and falling while occasional winces of pain interrupted their regularity. It seemed that the pain was keeping him awake.

As soon as Gromov put the bottles down, the aviator noticed him, jumped up and dashed towards him.

"Coke, coke, coooke! Did you get me coke? Where is it? Coke! Do you have it?" Pilot asked eagerly.

"Calm down and say please," the engineer teased, and held the bottle up in the air.

"You have it! Give it to me, Mr. Engie! Come on!" the other pleaded, trying to snag it from him.

"Hmm... no."

Alex felt Pilot's angry glare on him and his hypnotizing gaze started to unsettle him with every ominous second that passed, until it happened.

The pilot's elbow met with Engie's abdomen in a most unpleasant way, instantly making him regret his attempts to educate the lunatic child caught inside the body of a man.

The bottle slid out of his hands and was caught by Pilot midair, while the engineer fell to the floor, huddled in pain with his arms wrapped around himself.

"The glorious coke and I are finally reunited!" Pilot declared, and lifted his mask to chug from the bottle as he left the scene.

"Goddamn idiot! Oww my stomach..." Alexander groaned, and heard Stan laugh out loud.

"That was quite hilarious."

"Oh shut up! It's not funny," he grumbled, and pushed himself off the ground to get back up.

"You asked for it."

"Teaching him some manners is a physical impossibility. I just tend to give it a try every once in a while."

"I don't see the reason behind it, not in times like these," the tall man said, and took a few gulps from one of the bottles of water.

"I'm sure Pilot would save himself and the rest of us a lot of trouble if he only would listen to what we say. But that guy just never knows when to keep his mouth shut, even when we try to tell him to," Gromov explained, and picked up the small bottle of water from the table, staring down at it thoughtfully.

Recalling the memories of earlier today, he frowned. Pilot had been the one who started talking about Captain in front of their enemies, which had forced Snippy into his desperate decision to pass himself off as their leader.

Sighing, he twisted the bottle open and took a gulp of water, then his gaze fell on the marksman.

As he walked closer, Snippy looked up and their eyes met. He started to reach out for the bottle, but Engie pulled it back.

"Take your mask off first. You can't do that with a bottle in your hand, and I don't want you to use your right arm at the moment," the engineer instructed him.

Upon obeying unquestioningly, the bottle was finally handed to Snippy.

"Wait!" Stan yelled in a sudden, and everyone froze in place.

Startled by the shout, the sniper just gave him an inquiring look, but before he could say anything, Stan started talking.

"Don't drink too much right now, you don't want to overload your stomach... have just enough to keep yourself hydrated, alright...?" he explained to the sniper, and gave Gromov a stern look, who slightly flinched back.

"Thanks, guys," Charles mumbled, took a gulp of water and handed the bottle back to the engineer.

"No problem," Gromov said and turned around.

"Hey Stan, I'm gonna prepare some stuff for the treatment," he informed the brawny man, who had taken a seat on one of the chairs. "If you see or hear Pilot return, warn me. I don't want him to touch anything."

A short time later, he set down a medic kit on the table and opened it, then lit a flame in the open oil lamp. A bowl of water and some clean rags and towels were placed next to them.

Snippy silently fiddled with the ends of the blanket in his hand as he waited, glancing over at his comrade every now and then.

Gromov had an uneasy feeling about what was to come, because he had no clue on how to handle a patient with a gunshot wound at all.

_Damn it Alex, pull yourself together. It's just a little examination. The rest will be a piece of cake. You've wrapped a bandage heaps of times before._

But though he tried to tell himselfthat everything would be alright, he desperately hoped for some support from anyone with more experience than himself.

"You're very well organized. Are you the team medic?" Stan couldn't abstain from asking.

"Uh... no, not really. I'm probably just that lucky to be the only one halfway capable of doing the job," Gromov confessed, taking a gulp from the bottle of vodka in his hand. He sighed.

"But to be honest, I know nearly nothing about medicine and anatomy, just some very moderate basics. What about you?"

"Well, being part of a big group of survivors often brought the opportunity to watch some of our people undergo medical treatment, after they were wounded by monsters or in armed conflict with hostile groups," Stan said, getting up from the chair and slowly pacing over to the engineer, where he came to halt.

"In all that time, I learned a few things about gunshot wounds. I even had to assist in a small surgery once, although I've never done one all by myself."

"Well, in that case, it seems you're at least a bit more experienced than me," Gromov stated, wondering whether the other would notice his trepidation.

Trying to quell his nerves, he took another gulp of vodka.

"I guess I can give it a try," Stan finally offered. "Hey, would you stop drinking that stuff? You won't be any use if you're drunk!"

"I'm a full-blood Russian... a whole bottle of this will barely make me tipsy," Alex cackled.

"Damn Russian blood... sometimes I wish I had it," Stan muttered, and turned around to Snippy.

"Here, you're gonna need this," Gromov remarked as he handed the tall man a small flashlight. At Stan's surprised look, Engie had to smile. "Working batteries have ceased to exist, but being an engineer has proven to still have its advantages in times like these. I found a way to build my own."

"Clever," the tall man commented as he turned it on. "I'm going to take a look at your friend now."

As Stan brushed away the ripped shirt cloth to reveal the wound, Snippy turned his head away.

"This is just to exclude any danger emanating from the bullet," Stan told him. "Don't worry, it's not gonna hurt a lot."

Standing silently in the background, Engie watched Stan stretch the skin around the gunshot wound with his fingers, and it didn't take long for Snippy to react.

Jerking under the terrible pain the pressure on his shoulder delivered, Charles could barely suppress a yelp.

The little flashlight lit up the gory inside for a few seconds, then it was turned off and disappeared into Stan's big fist.

As Stan finally withdrew, the relieved sniper slowly started to recover from his torture, breathing laboriously.

"Damn it..." Stan muttered. "This is bad. Very bad."

"What's your diagnosis?" Gromov inquired, concerned, pushing himself forwards to see.

"The bullet is split and slightly deformed. There are two sharp edges sticking out from it that're causing him a lot of pain. Must have happened as it hit a bone or something..."

"Shit... so what are we gonna do now?"

"We'll have to get it out somehow, or it will do more internal damage to the tissue if he moves around. Get me some scissors," the taller man instructed.

Abstaining from asking any more questions, the engineer quickly searched the medical kit for scissors. As he had finally found a pair and handed it over, Stan literally ripped it from his fingers and pointed it at Snippy's chest, who already tensed up in anticipation of more pain.

To both Snippy and Engie's relief, the scissors turned out to be needed only to cut through the remains of the already tattered shirt that would have just been in the way.

Blood stained skin was exposed, revealing a bunch of dark purple bruises across the side of the ribcage, along with a horrible looking, open gash wound. Gromov was astounded how the sniper could have guided them through the mission with these injuries and played it off so well the whole time.

He could heard Stan taking a deep breath and wondered what was going on inside the man's head.

_Does he feel guilty? Are some of these bruises his work, perhaps? _

Gromov tried to recall the memories of earlier that day, but his head ached too horribly to dig for them and to be honest, he didn't really want to think about them anymore.

The man beside him shifted around to get one of the smaller rags, dipped it into the water and started wiping off the smeared blood from the sniper's chest. Charles tensed up every time his hand got too close to one of the wounds and tried his best to hold still as he dabbed at them.

"Alex, he's gonna require a morphine shot for what we're about to do," Stan demanded without turning around.

"We don't have any morphine or other pain killers..."

"Damn it! Have you got anything antiseptic at least?"

"Well... it seems all we got is alcohol."

"It will do," Stan declared, and glanced over at Gromov.

The engineer was still sipping from the bottle, lost in thoughts he hoped to wipe from his mind with vodka. Noticing Stan watching him, he gave him a weird look.

"What?" Alexander asked, shrugging at him.

"My god... How can someone drink so much," the taller man muttered in frustration, and sighed. "Give me that before you drink it all..."

With a jolt he rudely yanked the bottle out of Gromov's hand. The engineer wanted to complain, but held back as the other man gave him a death stare. Stan turned back around and Snippy eyed him suspiciously as he checked the label of the bottle.

As the sniper noticed what the man was up to, his eyes widened in fear. Every muscle in his body tensed up and a pained scream escaped him as the liquid was poured over the gash, burning like searing hot metal heated up in a fire.

"Goddamn it..." Charles groaned, gasping for air. "Warn me next time you do something like this!"

Ignoring him, Stan reached for one of the big patches from the kit and carefully covered the wound with it.

Gromov just stood beside him, frowning and trying to think of a way to ease the whole situation for his comrade. As the sniper caught his glance, he swiftly spun around and paced across the room.

With a sigh Stan turned to the table and started searching through the med kit. Eventually he held up surgical forceps, scrutinized them for a while and finally held them over the flame to sterilize them.

* * *

_So this is it... I ended up as the lab rat of two wannabe doctors. But on the other hand, they're probably the only people who can help me right now, _Snippy thought, rather despairing about the whole situation.

Slowly he looked down at himself to study the bullet wound on his shoulder for the first time. The horrible view of the bloodied, ruptured skin and exposed flesh made him cringe inside and a nauseous feeling overcame him.

_Oh god..._ he thought, and looked away, closing his eyes for a moment as he tilted his head back.

Trying to forget about the pain and the horrible sight, Charles looked for a distraction.

Curious for anything that would be more interesting than staring at the ceiling above him, he peered around the room to see what the others were doing.

Stan was still preparing some tools on the table while Alexander just watched him from his chair, where he sat almost like a king on his throne.

_I really wonder what's going on in Gromov's head right now. It almost seemed as if he was mad at me for some reason._

As he looked over to him once more, he suddenly realized that the engineer was staring right at him. Just as their eyes met, the man looked away, got up with a sigh and paced over to the window, gazing out of it thoughtfully.

_That guy is a mystery, _Charles thought, and decided to let the guy be for now.

After a while he found himself staring at the ceiling again, failing to find a distraction in it.

_Goddamn it, my shoulder's killing me!_

Quickly, he shook off these thoughts.

Looking through the room again, he hoped for something to happen, something to make this horrible moment pass.

"Engie! What are you guys doing?" Someone yelled, and a gleefully jumping Pilot appeared in the door frame.

Alexander spun around and approached Pilot as if he wanted to shove him out of the way like a roaming snow-plough.

"What are you playing, Engie? Can I join?" Pilot asked, but he was promptly pushed away.

"We're just fixing Snippy. It's a boring game."

"You mean Stan is fixing Snippy, while you're just looking out of the window."

"What! How did you- I didn't-" Gromov stuttered, and turned an interesting shade of tomato-red. He quickly caught himself again. "I mean... I helped him earlier!"

"Shame, Engie. Captain won't be proud when he hears of your laziness."

"This is none of your business," he hissed, and continued his attempts to push him through the door frame.

"You won't let me join your game and you're being lazy. Once I tell Captain of your unfairness, he's gonna degrade you!"

"Whatever. Why don't you piss off."

Pilot gazed at him for a while, then he slowly lowered his head, turned around and walked away with a sniffle.

_Wow, Gromov. What turned you into such a coldhearted asshole?_ Snippy thought, and wondered why he felt so disappointed in him.

As the engineer turned around, he found the other two staring at him.

"That... wasn't okay," Stan remarked.

"Congratulations, Gromov," Snippy muttered. "You managed to make him cry. I hope you are proud of yourself..."

Alexander said nothing, but then Charles realized that the engineer was silently fighting a certain tension in his chest.

_I know him... He's not like that. Deep inside his heart, he probably already regrets his words and wishes he could undo everything_.

"I'm going to talk to him," Engie finally said in a tone that sounded more concerned than annoyed. "See what I can do to cheer him back up."

Hearing this took a load off Snippy's heart.

_Guess he's not such a bad guy after all, _he thought contently, and smiled. _Even if he seems selfish sometimes... at some level, he still cares._

Now that Engie and Pilot were gone, Charles watched Stan sorting out things from the kit, and something came to his mind that made him ponder.

There was something about Stan that had caught Snippy's attention earlier and nagged him ever since. Since they had arrived home, he had never seen Stan using his right hand unless he absolutely had to. But Charles was 100% sure that the man wasn't left-handed, and that fact worried him.

After a while he suddenly remembered, and everything became clear to him.

_Right... that gash on his lower arm. How could I forget? Pilot struck him quite badly there, as far as I remember. He is wearing a bandage, so he must have nursed himself in the time he was gone. _

The sniper let out a long sigh and looked at the man.

_That wound looked pretty bad... Oh god, I seriously hope he's alright. He's either very tough, or very good at hiding his pain. How did he even carry me through that storm with that injury? I don't even..._

A surge of pain in his shoulder cut through his thoughts and made him cringe. For a moment he paused and slowly caught himself again with shallow, cautious breaths.

Trying to catch himself again, he took another look at Stan.

_Just look at how brave he's been. You should take a leaf out of his book, Charles. Stay tough and take it like a man... Everything will pass._

* * *

_It's already been an awfully exhausting day, and as if the shock from Snippy almost biting the dust today wasn't enough, Pilot has to get on my nerves now too._

With a mix of frustration and worry on his mind, Engie strode through the short hallway, following the soft sounds of crying to a small storage room littered with wooden crates of supplies. Pilot huddled on top of one of them, hiding his face in his arms. His shaky sniffing instantly stopped as he spotted the engineer, and green eyes locked him in an angry glare.

_Okay Alex, you know what you're here for. Talk to Pilot, and don't mention anything about the surgery. Children don't understand the word "no" and he is like a child, so you shouldn't even think of it. You don't want to give him bad ideas. So go up to him, say sorry, clear the problem and most important: don't mess up,_ he told himself, and slowly approached.

"Pilot, I-"

"Talking about teaching manners when you don't even have any yourself... go away, you dumb shoe," Pilot growled.

"Ugh..." Gromov uttered.

_What the... okay, keep trying. Don't give up just yet._

"Yeah, about that... Sorry, I couldn't-"

"You couldn't control yourself? Why?"

"Stop interrupting me!" Alexander yelled.

"Stop being mean to me!" Pilot yelled back in the same tone.

_For fuck's sake! Arguing with an idiot doesn't get you anywhere. Alright, Alex... you don't want to sink to his level, so don't let him drag you down there. Be rational. You can solve this like a grown up man._

"Okay Pilot, look: I won't be mean to you anymore from now on," Engie suggested, and this time Pilot seemed to listen to him. "But you also gotta promise to stop hurting me in any way, and that includes punching me to get what you want. It's not nice!"

"You started it!"

"What? How?"

"You didn't want to give me my well-earned coke!"

"Ugh..." the engineer muttered, resisting the urge to face-palm.

_This is gonna be more complicated than I thought._

For a while, they just stared at each other blankly, both waiting for the other to say something.

"Let's just forget about this," Engie suggested.

"No," Pilot said dully. "I'm going to tell Captain."

"Wha-?"

"I'm going to tell him that you apologized. He will be proud to hear that your manners have improved."

_How dare you, you damn, sly little bastard..._ Engie thought, and clenched his fists, trying his best to hold himself back from yelling all sorts of swear words at him. He took a deep breath and looked back up at the other man.

"How about you draw him a nice picture instead. You know how much Captain appreciates your drawings."

"A gift drawing? Yes, a very good idea!" Pilot cheered and jumped off the box. "It will be the best welcome gift for Captain!"

_Good. Now, all I have to do is-_

As Pilot brushed him while passing by, a part of his belt hooked through the buckle on Gromov's sleeve. The engineer was spun around, lost his balance and fell on his backside in a rather undignified manner.

"Oww!"

"Sorry, Engie!" Pilot's voice yelled regretfully through the corridor. "I'll go find my chalks!"

_Whatever,_ Alexander thought, and got up, dusting off the back of his pants. _Time to return to the others and see how far Stan got._

With that on his mind he strode through the corridor. In the corner of his eye he saw the two displays he had attached there and stopped to take a look at them. They were part of a new installation he had built in the last few days.

_Good, the battery still has enough power for the night. The air filter system won't let us down for now, and as long as we keep the door shut, we should have fresh and clean air in here._

He looked at the modified window with a blowing fan and a filter of its size in it. With confidence he pulled his mask down and took a slow breath, feeling the clean air filling his lungs. It felt good to breathe without a respirator again for once.

The goggles felt uncomfortable on his face, so he shifted them up to his forehead and rubbed his face with his hand.

As if it hadn't been there before, an old leather wallet on the drawer caught his attention and he went to pick it up.

_Gosh, I almost forgot these things existed. It's been so long since people used coins and paper money to for purchases. Now this old piece of thick leather could probably come of use one last time._

Taking the few remaining coins out of it, he stored the wallet in the pocket of his jacket and returned to the others.

As he entered their room, he saw Stan sitting huddled on a chair next to Snippy's couch. They both stared at him, probably because he wasn't wearing his mask.

"I'm back," Engie announced to break the silence. "Pilot is fine now, and I checked the ventilation system. The air in here should be filtered now, so we can take our masks off for a while."

Without a word, Stan took his face-gear off. With closed eyes, he ran his hand through his blonde, short-clipped hair and over his face, taking a deep breath, before he returned to his huddled posture.

"So... what's new?" the engineer inquired, hoping for at least some good news.

"Well, Alex..." Stan began, then glanced down at his hand and frowned. "I contemplated our situation here and came to a decision."

"Yeah?"

"You're going to perform the surgery on your friend."

The shock hit him like a blast wave.

"But why?" the engineer cried, confused. "You've done very well so far, and you have more experience than-"

"I can't use my right hand," Stan interrupted, and moved his hand over the bandaged part of his right arm where he'd been wounded by Pilot. "And I'm not sure if I'll ever be able to do so again."

Gromov fell silent and noticed Snippy shifting nervously.

"Most of my arm's tendons were ruptured when your swordsman attacked me. Luckily, some of them remained intact and I can still move my middle and ring finger. It allowed me to pull the trigger to save the life of your friend," he muttered, and glanced down on Snippy to talk to him.

"Don't worry, you'll be in good hands. This man is a master engineer, he's been doing delicate handwork his whole life."

"This is different...," Alexander hissed at him coldly. "I've never worked like that... on a human."

Frowning in despair, Gromov glanced over at Charles, and their eyes met, but this time neither of them looked away. While Alexander slowly approached, Snippy didn't take his gaze off him. Beside anxiety and pain there was nothing to be found in his blue eyes.

As he stood by him, he stared down at his wounded crew mate, who patiently waited, looking up at him.

_What now... if I take one wrong step, you're going to die and it will be my fault. What was Stan thinking when he gave me this task? I can't shoulder such responsibility. _

Unable to bear it anymore, Alexander shut his eyes and covered them with his hand, turning away in resignation.

"I... I can't do this. You picked the wrong person for this task."

"You're the only person left who can do it. Have confidence in yourself..." Stan reassured him, and took hold of Gromov's shoulders. "I'll tell you what to do; you can rely on me. I won't let you down."

"But what if something goes wrong? I can't take the risk..."

"You want Charles to live, right? His life is in your hands now, and if you refuse to help him... he won't make it through the night."

_His life depends on... me?_

That phrase – it sounded familiar. He had heard it before, not that long ago, which made him ponder. As he recalled the memories of the day, he realized that it was Snippy who had said it.

Gromov fully remembered that scene was right after Pilot had put Stan to rout, leaving him behind with the sniper. Oh how terrified he had been... he remembered wishing to faint and wake up from the horrible nightmare.

But in the end it was Charles who woke him up and brought him back to reality, soothing his horribly frightened mind. Merely thinking back on it sent a cold shiver down his spine, and as he looked down at the sniper, Alex felt a sudden sadness spreading inside him.

Finally secure about his decision, he gritted his teeth and let go of his fear.

"No. I don't want him to die..." Gromov began shakily, and straightened himself. "Tell me what must be done, Stan. I'll do my best and give it a try."

"Alright, Alex," the other man sighed, seeming quite delighted with his words. "But first, calm down and take a deep breath, before you faint from agitation. Hehe."

Just as he was told that, he followed Stan's advice. Taking a deep breath, he rolled his shoulders, trying to loosen his tense muscles, then he finally looked back at him.

"Good. I've already prepared everything. Now, let us begin, shall we? First off, take your gloves off and sanitize your hands with this," the man instructed, and handed him a cloth.

The soft cloth felt moist on his hands and bore a slight scent of alcohol.

As soon as Stan handed him the surgical forceps, Alex's initial fear returned. He swallowed, knowing that this would be no easy task.

"Wait a second..." Snippy said nervously. "You're going to do this without any sort of anesthetization?"

Engie frowned, gazing down at him for a while and sighed nervously, before he finally answered.

"We haven't got anything pain numbing we could give you."

"Not even some of your booze?"

"Believe me..." Stan talked. "The thinning effect it would have on your blood right now would mean your death," he paused. "But we'll give you some after this is over."

"Wow, that's fucking great," the sniper hissed irritatedly.

"Look, I'm really sorry, but this is all I can give you for now," Gromov spoke, and handed him the leather wallet. "You're going to want to bite down on this... to help you endure the pain. I'll try to make this quick... Try not to faint."

Charles took the old piece of leather and glowered at the two men.

"I hate you so much right now... both of you."

"Perhaps you should be a little more grateful," Stan advised him. "I've encountered groups of survivors that leave their wounded comrades out in the cold to die, because they simply don't care enough or don't have a clue on how to treat them. You're lucky we're not like them."

The sniper sighed. "Thanks, I guess," he mumbled and turned his face away.

"Stan, I think we're all ready now," Alexander changed the topic. "How should I proceed?"

"You watched me examining before, right? You will do the same now in order to look for the bullet before you start," he explained. "It is very important that you know its position before you dig for it. Go on, give it a try."

Engie nodded and gazed down at Snippy, who pouted at the fabric of the back rest of the couch. Still with the same look on his face, he glanced at him for a second, before he continued looking at the fabric.

"Just do it," he mumbled quietly, and put one side of the leather wallet in his mouth.

With hesitation, Gromov slowly moved his hand over the bullet wound and he did as he was told, pulling it open more with his fingers, he felt a wince and the breathing of the sniper sped up.

"Wait a moment... I'll hold the light for you," Stan said, and turned the little flashlight on. "There. Can you see the projectile?"

"Yeah. What now?"

"Try to reach it with the forceps. But be very careful not to cut any veins on the way."

Doing his best to mentally prepare for what was to come, Alex took a deep breath before he moved the surgical forceps over the gunshot wound.

"Alright, here goes..."

As carefully as he could, he took the tool right to the bullet. Once there, he spread the forceps and tried to grab the projectile. But as the metal touched the tissue at the side of the hole, Snippy jerked unexpectedly, which made Engie pull back.

"Damn it..."

"It's okay, just try again, Alex," Stan noted. "You did great so far."

"Alright. Hold still this time, Charles," Engie said, and lowered the forceps to the wound.

The sniper gave a snorted sound of agitation and glared at the engineer.

"I know it hurts, but you gotta try."

"Stop talking and do it already..." the sniper hissed at him around the edges of the wallet in irritation and turned his face away.

With that, the engineer gave it another try. This time he slowly moved the forceps over the sides of the bullet, but as he tried to grab it, he slipped off.

Snippy bit down on the leather and let out a groan, but Gromov didn't let loose this time and tried once again. As he finally got a solid hold of the projectile, he wanted to pull it out, but all attempts to move it failed and only resulted in inflicting more unnecessary pain on his crew mate.

"I can't get it out!" Alex cried to Stan.

"Try to turn it and grab it from a different angle," the other man suggested.

Trembling horribly under the torment, the sniper breathed heavily and couldn't hold back a cry of pain as the engineer attempted to turn the deformed bullet around.

A tear ran down the tormented man's face, and Alex was sure that it came from an excessive amount of pain and the resignation; but he knew that it wouldn't be over for him anytime soon.

Even though it tore his heart to torture his comrade like this, the engineer pulled all his courage together to keep going. If he stopped now, there would be no hope for Snippy to survive.

Blood slowly kept flowing from the open wound and the situation seemed hopeless, but Gromov wasn't anywhere near giving up. After a few more attempts, the projectile was finally loose, but as a result of that, the blood flow increased.

Making haste now, the engineer deftly extracted the bullet and threw it on the table along with the forceps. Looking down at the blood, he began swearing in despair and turned to his teacher.

"Crap, he's gonna bleed out! What should I do?!" he yelled to Stan, fighting not to burst into panic.

"Apply pressure and keep him awake while I get some bandages," Stan said shortly, turning back to the table.

Pressing both his hands against the bleeding wound, Gromov felt his stress levels rising rapidly and could hear his heart pounding in his ears. Below his hands he saw the blood slowly seeping through.

"Hang in there..." he muttered shakily, not taking his eyes off Snippy.

Breathing heavily, the sniper let out a weak groan of pain.

"Alright, let's finish this," he heard Stan say, appearing next to him with a bundle.

Alexander instantly let go and made space for the other man.

"Come and lend me a hand, Alex," he told him over his shoulder. "We need to bandage the wound with these. They will repress the bleeding."

Without further ado, he came to Stan's aid. Together they started to carefully wrap the pressure bandages around the sniper's shoulder, making sure they weren't too tight or too loose.

As they finally finished, Engie dropped himself into a chair with an exhausted sigh. Snippy took the wallet out of his mouth and wiped over his forehead with his sleeve, before flinging that vile tasting bit of cow hide to the floor.

"Well done, Alex," Stan said, and gave him a pat on the shoulder. "Keep an eye on him for a little longer, and don't let him pass out. I'll be back in a few."

Too weary to really bother replying, the engineer just nodded and watched him leave.

"I did it..." Alexander quietly muttered to himself, looking down at his hands.

Naturally, he hadn't expected the surgery to be easy, because it certainly had not been. But Alexander knew that with his commitment to keep Charles alive, he had finally paid his debt to the sniper for saving his backside so many times.

Hearing a quiet groan coming from said sniper, Engie silently turned his gaze to his crew mate, frowning with worry.

Even though his breathing had slowed down, he still sucked in a breath sometimes and contorted his face as he gave a wince of pain.

"Gromov... I'm seeing... funny colors..." the sniper suddenly mumbled absently.

"This is bad..." Engie whispered to himself as he strode towards him. "Stay awake, Charles!" he told him, but it was already too late; the man didn't respond anymore, his head tilted to the side.

With a hefty slap he tried to wake him up, but without success.

"Goddamn it Charles, don't do this to me...!" he hissed and searchingly scanned the room for something useful.

As he spotted the bowl of water on the table, he formed his hands to a bowl and plunged them into the container that held the liquid. The moment he emptied his hands over the snipers face, he woke with a start and gasped. A second later he groaned up and brought his hand to his bandaged shoulder.

"What... When... Why did you do this?!" he uttered confusedly and glowered at Alexander.

"Shut up, moron! You passed out, okay?"

A silent moment passed, and Engie broke the silence with a long sigh.

"Oh..." Snippy mumbled after a while. "I remember now."

"Try to stay awake now. I'm sure Stan will be back soon..." the engineer spoke and glanced to the door.

"Where did he go...?" the sniper asked in a low voice.

"I don't know; he didn't tell me. But he looked pretty devastated as he left."

"Ugh..." Snippy sighed and lay his head back.

Gromov knew that it wasn't time to lay off worry about the sniper's condition yet. The fight still wasn't won... Not until Stan officially told him that there was no more reason to worry.

With a sigh, the engineer rose and retrieved his bottle of vodka. Trying to ease his frayed nerves, he opened the lid and took a few big, well earned swigs before he returned to his seat to watch over the sniper.

As the engineer glanced at him, he searched for something appropriate to say, but he just couldn't think of anything.

"Hey Snips... You're still awake, right?"

"Of course I am," Snippy muttered weakly and cleared his throat. "Uhm, Gromov..."

"Yeah?"

"At one point... I thought you wouldn't pull it together enough to do that surgery."

"Oh shut up..." the engineer snorted, and pouted at the ground.

"But in the end, you really did it," The sniper said slowly. "Thanks for that."

A bunch of scattered thoughts circulated through his mind, but his head felt so empty at that moment and the engineer missed the right words to say.

"Hey... you're welcome," he finally uttered and smilingly ruffled through Snippy's hair, which put a smirk on his face.

As he waited for his 'teacher' to return, Gromov made himself comfortable on the chair and took a few sips from his alcoholic beverage.

Quite some time passed before Stan came back and checked on Snippy while Engie sat on the chair, about to doze off, the bottle placed in his lap.

With a tap on the back the blonde man woke the engineer up from his half-sleep and asked him to assist him in changing the bandages of his crew mate one last time. As they removed the pressure bandages, the brawny man paused.

"Good, the flow's stopped. Looks like your friend is gonna be alright," Stan finally reassured Alexander while fixing the new bandage.

With that said, the engineer felt relieved of everything he had still worried about up to that moment and sighed, letting go of his anxiety.

"Give him a few weeks of rest and he should be fit again; until then he shouldn't move his arm too much or do anything strenuous. It would be better for him to completely cease using any firearms for the time being, even after the wound's healed."

"What if we get attacked again...?" Engie asked worriedly.

"You have a great swordsman, and I taught you how to use a gun," Stan reminded him and paused for a moment. "You'll manage somehow. And hey, it's only for about a month, then you'll have your sniper back."

"I'm not doing this again..." Snippy said with a smirk.

Upon that, Stan started laughing gleefully, while Gromov merely pulled a smile.

"Here, you should keep yourself hydrated," Stan said as he handed the sniper the small drinking bottle. "Don't chug the whole bottle down... be cautious about drinking for now. Tomorrow we'll see if we can get you some pain killers."

"Thanks...," the sniper muttered and gladly took the bottle.

Willingly, the blonde man helped Engie clean up the room and together they put away the rest of the things that lay on the small table.

As they finished, Gromov put the lamp down on the dining table, took a seat on one of the many chairs that stood around and offered the other man a glass of vodka.

Resting their bare feet on the remaining chairs, they sat and relaxed while exchanging a few words and sipping from their glasses.

"Hey Stan, look... it's finally over."

"What is?"

"Everything. We've finally got a moment to relax, I'll say we deserve it," the engineer muttered tiredly. "Hey, want some canned rice mix? I'm really hungry and I'll have to go get some more drinks too anyways."

"Sure, I'd love to eat some," the brawny man replied. "But I'll stay here. Somebody's gotta stay near Charles, just in case. By the way, you should ask him if he wants something to eat as well."

"Right. Hold on a minute," Engie said and went to the couch.

Snippy lay still with his face turned away, chest slowly rising and falling. As Gromov peered over him to get a closer look, he noticed that the sniper was already fast asleep. Carefully, he pulled up the blanket to cover him, looked over at Stan with a shrug and left to the storeroom.

Moments later he came back with a bunch of stuff and deposited it all on the table in front of Stan. Before he sat back down, he looked through a few drawers and came back with two forks in his hand.

Eagerly they opened their cans and started eating.

"Is he alright?" Stan inquired, munching his mixed rice with relish.

"He's fast asleep. We'll see how it is tomorrow, I guess."

"At least he can sleep. It's all thanks to you."

"Well... without your help, I couldn't have done it," Alex pointed out. "I really can't thank you enough for that."

"It goes without saying. I owed it to him, because he saved my life," Stan explained briefly. "So I paid my debt in saving his life in return."

"That's an honorable way of thinking," the engineer admitted. He refilled the glasses and raised his. "Let's drink to that."

"Cheers," the other man said, and clicked glasses with Alexander.

After that, they lost themselves in small talk. Engie found out that Stan had lived in Austria, until he moved here with his father after his mom died. He also told Gromov a few words in German, which made him giggle in amusement over the sound of what was to him a foreign language and upon that, Stan demanded a demonstration of his own mother language in return.

Then Stan started telling him stories about people in his ex-crew and somehow they moved on to talking about Pilot and Snippy. At one point, Engie began to talk about Captain, but even though he had worked and lived around him for quite a while, he still knew nearly nothing about the commander, which opened space for various speculations and theories.

Time was lost to them as they talked. Glasses were refilled and stories were told, until Stan suddenly stopped in the middle of a sentence and froze with a blank stare at the space behind the engineer.

Looking at him, he could literally see the fear in his widened eyes and began to worry that something terrible had occurred.

As quickly as he could, Engie spun around to face the terror and jumped as he saw a tall figure standing right behind him, but seconds later he already recognized the man.

"Good evening, mein minion."

"Wha- Seven?!" Engie spluttered and almost fell from his chair, drunk as he was. "I- uh- I mean... Greetings, Captain!"

"So this is your Captain?" Stan inquired hastily. He got up and walked over to the man, reaching forward for a hand shake. "I deem it an honor to meet you, Sir. I am Stan."

"Greetings, Mr. Stan. I presume you are a friend of Mr. Engie? Guests are always welcome in my house," Captain said, and turned to Gromov. "Mr. Engie! I'd like to know about your progress so far in fixing the objects I ordered from you."

"Uh..." the engineer said and flailed his hands in a series of gestures as if he was trying to tell him everything but didn't quite know where and how to start. "Well, the thing is... the mug... Stan is... and then Snippy..."

Eventually, he had to stop and started coughing, because through his nervousness it seemed he had forgotten how to exhale. Briefly he looked over at the door, just to check if Captain had closed it behind him after entering, and was relieved to find that he had.

"What do you mean? Cut the nonsense and tell me what happened!" Captain urged him.

As Gromov finally caught himself again, he gave it another try.

"Okay... It was as follows: Thieves burgled our house, took our stuff and stole the mug."

"The mug! Where is it?!" Captain yelled at him, and Engie tried to calm him down.

"Shh, it's right here," he said and pointed to said object. "Now, where was I... Yes, the thieves. We managed to free ourselves thanks to Pilot, fought back and followed them to their base. Then we retrieved the mug and everything else and fought against the enemy force, but Snippy got hurt in the process. Luckily, Stan came to the rescue and we returned home."

"Wow, you just made that sound like a children's tale," Stan mumbled, but Engie instantly shushed him.

"Excellent job, mein engineer," Captain praised. "But where is the rest of my crew now?"

"Pilot is upstairs, and Snippy... well..." he glanced over to where the sniper was sleeping. "He's asleep; it's probably better to not wake him up right now."

"He's getting some sleep? Great! Then he can work better when he is awake! Now, I shall go see what my other minion is doing. Mr. Engie, would you be so kind as to find a place for Stan to sleep? Our guest shouldn't feel neglected in any way!" The commander told him before he danced out of the room.

As soon as he was gone, Alexander let out a long sigh.

"He has a... strange way of talking," the blonde man noted. "Almost sounds like as if he doesn't really give a damn about any of you."

"I know."

"Actually, I find it kinda hard to believe that you accept _him_ as your leader, but would refuse to follow Charles."

"Shut up... I have my reasons," the engineer muttered. He paced over to the door and beckoned for Stan to follow. "Come, I'll show you a room where you can sleep."

The man followed Alex to a small room lined with shelves that were packed with crates and a lot of stuff laying around on the floor, including an old mattress.

"Guess we will have to move a few things..." Engie said as he saw the chaos and began to move a few crates aside. "Can you muck in?"

Stan looked down at his injured arm and frowned, glancing at the engineer and silently indicating that he would rather not lift anything heavy right now.

"Oh, your arm..." Engie began and looked at it for a while in silence, wishing he could help him somehow.

"I looked at it earlier, when I left you alone with Snippy. It looks pretty bad... and I know if I don't get proper treatment soon, I won't be able to use my hand ever again. Sadly I have no idea how to treat it," he told him, and Engie noticed a glint of desperation in his voice. "I'm going to leave tomorrow morning. See if I can get hold of one of our doctors."

"Wait... doesn't that mean that you'll have to go back to that large shopping mall base?"

"It's alright, they know me there. I have hope that our medics will be able to help me."

"You... know you're risking getting attacked again... right?" Engie pointed out. "Your ex boss is probably waiting there, and you're not exactly in his good books right now."

"You're over exaggerating, Alex," Stan said with a laugh, and sat down on the mattress. "Charles took out most of the gunners and the few survivors are probably in medical treatment right now. I'm pretty sure that they have bigger problems to worry about than me."

Feeling overwhelmed with tiredness, Gromov sighed and turned to the door.

"They sure do. After all, they just lost their whole army..." he muttered, trying to imagine what it would be like to be a part of them right now.

_Probably a lot less pleasant than we have it here, _he presumed.

"Anyways, it's gotten pretty late," the engineer yawned sleepily. "Good night."

"Good night," the blonde man mumbled in return while snuggling down into the mattress.

"And if we don't get a chance to talk again..." Engie uttered. "Take care."

With that, Gromov left and headed to his chamber, everything inside of him craving for sleep.

The next morning dawned with a bright, yellow sky.

With tired eyes and a horribly aching head, Alexander shuffled down the stairs and stretched himself with a big yawn, cracking away the stiffness in his joints and rubbing his eyes.

As he looked through one of the windows, he saw Captain standing in the snow, staring straight ahead. Watching him for a while, he couldn't help but feel glad that he was finally back with them again. Horrible things tended to happen when he wasn't around.

Suddenly Photoshop dashed past the commander with Pilot in pursuit, waving a long, red ribbon in the air.

_Silly Pilot... he's trying to attach that thing to the monster worm, but it's obvious that it doesn't like it,_ Gromov thought.

As he entered the living room, the first thing he saw was Snippy, sitting on one of the chairs around the table, calmly eating from an open tin can.

"Morning," the engineer mumbled sleepily and took a seat somewhere near Snippy.

For only a short moment, the sniper glanced at him with tired eyes.

"Hi," was all the blue-eyed man brought forth, before he continued eating.

The sniper looked quite devastated in Gromov's eyes, but he really couldn't blame him. That man had been through a hell of a lot the day before and would need a lot of time to recover from everything that had happened to him.

"Uhm... where's Stan?" The engineer inquired curiously.

"He's gone. Said he'd go back to the hostile base to find a doctor..." Snippy muttered. "Before he left, he thanked me for everything and told me to greet you from him..."

A conspicuous piece of cloth that hung over the chair suddenly caught Engie's attention, which he soon determined as Stan's coat.

"...But why did he leave his coat behind?"

"He took the bloodied soldier-coat with him instead. You know, the one he had covered me with. He told me it would serve as his camouflage."

"I... don't get it," Engie muttered after a while, and frowned as he raised an eyebrow.

"Maybe he's gonna try to sneak through, pretending to be one of them in order to get near a doctor," Charles explained. "And with that mask covering his face, they probably won't be able to distinguish him from the rest until he reveals his identity."

"Clever guy..." Gromov gasped, quite amazed at Stan's ingenuity.

Snippy nodded. "But his arm... it looked pretty bad. Do you think he'll be alright?"

"I'm sure he will," he reassured the sniper with a smile. "But... what about you? How are you feeling?"

A short moment of silence followed, then Snippy raised his left hand and waved it about a bit.

"I'm feeling better than ever before! In fact, I feel so good that I could go outside right now, pull a traffic light out of the ground and crush it with my bare hands until it turns into a chunk that fits into this can!" he declared, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"...What?"

"Not really. I'm gonna head back to bed and hope I don't die on the way," Snippy grumbled gloomily and put the fork down beside the half-empty can.

Slowly he got up from his chair, leaving a despondent Engie behind.

Unnoticed, Gromov's eyes followed the wounded sniper as he shuffled across the room. But as he suddenly started to stagger and seemed to start falling to the side, the engineer jumped up and was with him within the second, supporting him.

"Oww..." Snippy breathed, face twisting in pain. "Ah... Goddamn it."

"It's alright, Snips... it's alright..." Engie soothed him, and felt the other man tremble in pain. "You're not alone. We'll do this together, just like we did before, do you understand?"

"Gromov..."

"You spoke the truth all along, but I didn't want to believe it until I saw it with my own eyes. The whole mission yesterday proved something to me. None of us is gonna make it far if we don't stick together.

We all have our different duties and abilities to compliment each other, because we are a team.

And each one of us... is part of a chain."

* * *

**Hope ya'll liked my story, and don't forget to comment if you did. ;)**


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